Finders Keepers (18 page)

Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Finders Keepers

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“I can handle that. Do you really like this guy?” Tanner demanded.

“Like him? I worship him. This is the man I've been waiting for all my life. If he asked me to marry him tomorrow, I'd say yes.”

A worried frown settled on Tanner's face. Jessie found herself holding her breath “Does he worship you?” he asked.

“Uh-huh. Look!” Resa extended her left hand. “We're engaged,” she chortled.

“You got engaged and didn't tell me! How could you do that, Resa?” Tanner demanded.

“Two days, Tanner. I wanted to savor it all to myself for just a little while. I'm telling you now. I met his parents the first of December. God, they are so nice. His mother reminds me of Irene. His dad is bluff and hearty. They are so down-to-earth, so
real
it's scary. Josh and his parents are a little puzzled that I didn't take them to the ranch. I can't take the chance
she'll
do something, Tanner.”

“She'll never hear it from me. You know that, Resa. Jessie isn't going to say anything. For God's sake, don't tell anyone until you're . . . when are you getting married?”

“Valentine's Day.”

“How wonderful, Resa. Congratulations.” Jessie reached for her left hand. “It's beautiful.”

“Thank you for saying that,” Resa said shyly. “I know it's small, but it's perfect. I am just so thrilled. There are no words.”

“I told Jessie you were shy and withdrawn. I never heard you talk so much in my life. This calls for a toast!”

“That's because I'm in love. It means I'm not ugly, I'm not worthless, and I'm not a nobody. Josh says I'm beautiful inside and outside. He said I'm a valuable human being and I am somebody because I am going to be Mrs. Joshua Kelly. Mother was wrong!” Tears glistened in her eyes. Tanner reached for one of his sister's hands and Jessie reached for the other. “Why does she hate me so much, Tanner?”

“We aren't going down that road today. We're celebrating. Who cares what she thinks. You proved her wrong so many times I lost count. Get it through your head, she doesn't matter.”

“Guess what! Josh doesn't eat red meat either. You know what else? He's never grumpy or out of sorts. He has the best disposition.”

“On that happy note, let's eat lunch. Here's the toast. To my sister Resa. May she always be as happy as she is today. Wait, wait, I'm not finished. And to Jessie, who is going to entertain us after we finish all three of these fine bottles of wine!”

“Hear, hear,” Resa said holding her glass aloft.

Alexis Kingsley cursed the wet snow that seeped into her sling-back heels the moment she stepped from the Yellow Cab. She thrust a twenty-dollar bill through the window of the taxi, not knowing if it was too much or too little. She simply didn't care. Wet, swirling snow covered her as she picked her way up the flagstone path that led to Irene Marshall's house. She jabbed at the doorbell, still cursing under her breath. She jabbed again and again with no response. “Damn you, Angus, open this door!” She banged on it with clenched fists, then kicked at the shiny brass plate at the bottom of the door. Words she hadn't used since her racy youth spewed from her mouth.

She looked around to see if her movements were being observed. The falling snow made visibility almost zero. She bent down. People in the movies always left keys under planters or doormats or over the doorframe. She shook out the doormat that was covered with a quarter inch of snow. No key. By standing on her toes she could reach the ledge over the door. The fragrant evergreen wreath tickled her face, making her sneeze. No key. She looked inside the milk box. Two quarts of milk and a pint of cream. The milk and cream had to mean no one was home at the moment but would return; otherwise, the milk and cream would freeze. No key. She tilted the box and there it was, taped to the bottom. “You are just so damn predictable, Irene.” Alexis pocketed the strip of gray electrical tape so she could replace it and the key when she left the premises.

Inside it was warm, the thermostat set at seventy degrees. She called out, knowing there would be no response. Where had they gone? Was Tanner right, and Angus was sunning himself on some South Sea island? Or had Tanner called his father and warned him she was coming? It would be just like Tanner to do something like that to spite her. She kicked off her shoes and slid out of her fur coat. She'd never been in this house. It was tacky, small, and cozy. Angus liked cozy things. The furniture was worn, the carpet comparatively new and cheap-looking. Everywhere she looked there were framed pictures of the twins. Angus would be in his glory with a fire blazing, his feet up on the worn ottoman. The chair that matched the ottoman was oversize and would hold two comfortably. Irene and Angus. She sat down on the beige-and-brown chair. It was extremely comfortable. Broken in.

Alexis stared through narrowed eyes at the evergreen nestled into a corner nook on the right side of the fireplace. The tree fit the room as did all the other Christmas decorations. Having an eye for antiques, she knew some of the things she was looking at were priceless. She leaned her head back into the softness of the double chair. Once when she was little she'd been in a room like this with a Christmas tree just like this one. That tree had been decorated with stale popcorn and wilted cranberries. There were no presents under the tree, though. She moved out of the chair and walked over to the tree to check out the carefully arranged presents. How elegantly they were wrapped. Were the contents costly? Who had bought them? Irene? Angus? She compared them to the two sloppily wrapped presents in the shopping bag that Jessie Roland had handed her earlier.

Alexis dropped to her knees. She shook the gifts, rattled them, and then looked at the name tags. All of them were for Irene and her children and all of them were from Angus. “Damn you, Angus. Damn you to hell!”

Her vision blurred as she stared at an oversize ornament directly in front of her. She knew it was expensive because she'd seen ornaments just like it in catalogs. She reached for it and crushed it in one hand. The fragile glass fell into a hundred pieces, to scatter in and about the exquisitely wrapped gifts. She reached for another and then still another. She raised her eyes to stare at a delicate porcelain angel on top of the tree. The fire tongs found their way into her hand. With one swipe the angel shattered into the branches of the fir tree. She was angry now, angrier than she'd ever been in her life.

The fire tongs whipped across the tree again and again until there was nothing left of the beautiful ornaments. One last swipe sent the tree reeling into the corner. Alexis replaced the fire tongs and walked out to the kitchen. It smelled like cinnamon and lemon, much like that house she'd been in so long ago. She savored the smell for a moment. Irene loved to cook and bake. The refrigerator was full, without an inch of spare space. A succulent pink ham was on the first shelf. Two roasted chickens sat on a platter on the second shelf. The remains of a pot roast, Angus's favorite food, were on the third shelf. Fresh vegetables filled both bins. Bottles of wine along with milk and juice were on the high top shelf. Instead of closing the door to the refrigerator and freezer, Alexis let both of them hang open. She couldn't help but wonder what was in her own refrigerator back in Texas. She should know but she didn't.

A rum cake sat under a cut-crystal dome. Angus adored rum cake. She pinched off a piece. It was delicious. The cut-crystal dome crashed onto the tile floor. Alexis stepped over it as she lifted a second dome to stare down at a mince pie. Another one of Angus's favorite desserts. It, too, found its way to the ceramic floor. Overhead a luscious emerald fern hung over the sink. Irene had always loved green plants. She probably trimmed this one with manicure scissors. There wasn't a brown or yellow leaf anywhere on the exquisite plant. A flower store would show this plant off or display it in a window. Angus had plants like this in his office that he tended himself. Alexis reached for a long-handled carving knife from the rack near the stove. She whipped it across the plant twice until it toppled into the sink, the rich black potting soil scattering everywhere.

The red-checkered cushion covers on the scarred-oak chairs with the matching place mats matched the checkered curtains on the window and looked handmade. Irene had always liked to sew. The hooked rug by the sink looked handmade, too. In the movies women always did homey things like that in the winter when they were waiting for their husbands to return. Alexis scooped them up and carried them to the living room, where she tossed them into the fireplace. She reached for a long matchstick. Within minutes flames shot upward.

Alexis moved on through the dining room, where she opened the antique breakfront to stare at the array of fine, heirloom crystal. She had nothing half as beautiful back in Texas. She pushed and shoved until the breakfront toppled over the dining-room table. The sound of the shattering crystal was melodious.

She walked down the short narrow hall to the main bedroom. The king-size bed was made neatly. It was a plain room, half-masculine and half-feminine. The colors were earth tones with splashes of color on the walls. The carpet was soft and a dark chocolate. The small fireplace looked like it was used. A lot. How cozy. Logs stood upright in a wicker basket. It was an intimate, warm bedroom, with two comfortable matching chairs and a television set in the corner.

Blind rage coursed through Alexis as she conjured up a picture of her husband and Irene sitting side by side or making love in the big king-size bed. She stomped about the room, her body shaking with rage. The wet towels hanging side by side in the cramped bathroom intensified her rage.

Alexis prowled the room like an angry stalking tiger as she emptied dresser drawers and ripped into closets that held her husband's clothes right next to Irene's out-of-style clothing. The sewing box on the top shelf yielded a pair of scissors to help in her destruction. She gouged and ripped, her face a mask of rage. When she was finished she entered the bathroom, where she proceeded to shred the wet, worn pink towels. She opened the medicine cabinet, intent on destroying it, too, when she noticed all the medication bottles on the bottom shelf. Something alien tugged at her heart as she picked up one of the bottles, praying it didn't have Angus's name on it. It didn't. The breath left her body in a loud
swoosh
of sound. She scrutinized the nearly empty medication bottle carefully. Take for. pain as needed. Take one every four hours for pain. The thought that Irene Marshall was in pain pleased her. In the small vanity under the sink she found a stub of an eyebrow pencil. She copied down the drug names and would check them out later. Unpronounceable drug names had to mean Irene had a serious condition. “How nice,” she muttered. She left the medication intact and closed the door to the medicine cabinet.

Alexis meandered down the hall to the twins' bedrooms. She stood in the doorway to stare at total disarray. She should know the twins' names, but they eluded her at the moment. A picture of Irene, Angus, and the twins that had been blown up to poster size took center stage on one wall along with a smaller poster of John Lennon. Beneath all the junk, clothes and books scattered everywhere, there were indications it was a girl's room.

She wrinkled her nose. College students were young adults. She herself would never tolerate a room like this in her house. The boy's room was worse, with sports equipment everywhere. The poster in this room was different. This one was of Angus, Tanner, and the boy with a baseball glove on his hand. Angus had one arm around the boy's shoulders, and Tanner had his other arm around him. The raging fury she'd felt before returned with such force she had to sit down on the edge of the bed. “How dare you bring our son to this . . . this place! How dare you, Angus!” She sat that way for a long time until she felt the rage dissipate.

Why in the name of God had she come to this hateful place? Why was she torturing herself like this? She didn't belong here in this nest of sin. In the living room she looked around for a phone. She flipped through Irene's address book until she found the number for the taxi company. While she waited for the call to go through she plucked the small white card from a monstrous poinsettia sitting next to the phone. For one brief moment she thought she was going to faint.
Have a wonderful holiday
.
Resa and I both send our love
. It was signed Resa and Tanner. When the dispatcher, his voice crackly and hoarse, came on the line, Alexis gave Irene's address and was told it would be at least an hour before a cab could be dispatched because of the snow. She pitched the poinsettia in the general direction of the fire that was now just smoldering ashes.

How was she going to pass the time for a whole hour? She decided to make coffee. While it perked she gouged out a piece of the rum cake with her fingers. It really was delicious. She ate a second piece; the remainder of the cake she tossed into the sink with the green fern.

As she sipped at the coffee she wondered if she could be charged with breaking and entering. She decided it was very likely. She had to leave as soon as possible. It was snowing harder now. Would her flight take off on time? She might have to go to a hotel. She drank more coffee. She rinsed the cup before she pulled out the plug. She also needed to find a pair of shoes or boots. Her open-toed, open-heeled shoes were worthless in this kind of weather, and she didn't want to catch a cold.

The hall closet held an array of outer footwear. She dithered, finally choosing a pair of ankle-high boots that were a size too big and a size too wide. They would serve the purpose. She shuffled to where she'd thrown her fur coat and purse. She slipped into the coat and clomped her way back to the closet for a small canvas bag hanging on the door. She stuffed her dress shoes into the bag. She was ready now to go back to Texas. The last thing she did after she closed and locked the door was replace the key exactly the way she'd found it under the milk box. The cab arrived five minutes later. If the snow continued, any footprints she left would be obliterated.

She hated this town. She really did.

Jessie woke slowly as she savored the toasty warmth of her bed. She stretched, her thoughts going to Tanner and the two hours they'd spent in the Jacuzzi sipping wine. It had been one of the nicest evenings of her life. So nice that she wanted many more just like it. She'd looked good in Resa's bathing suit. Tanner had even commented that Resa never filled it out like she did. She curled deeper into the covers, her face flaming when she thought about the wine she'd consumed. One more glass and she would have dragged Tanner here to her bed. She wondered what today would bring. Was he ever going to kiss her? She'd certainly given him every opportunity. For some reason she'd thought he would be all over her. Maybe his restraint had something to do with her working for his father. On the other hand, maybe she wasn't his type, and he simply wasn't interested.

Then there was Resa and the words she'd whispered in her ear when they were leaving. “Tanner has
never
taken any girl, not even Bippity-Bop, into the Jacuzzi. He must really like you.” She thought he did. She hoped he did. She prayed that he did.

She knew she was falling in love, and there wasn't a thing she could do about it. She wished Sophie was close enough to call. She needed to share her thoughts and feelings.

God, she felt wonderful.

Tanner's booming voice thundered into her room. “Hey, Jess, it's eight-thirty. Up and at 'em!” He gave the door two sharp whacks. “Ten minutes!”

She loved it when he called her Jess. “Fifteen!” she shouted back.

“Not a minute longer.” Two more sharp whacks and then silence.

Jessie beelined for the shower.

She literally skidded into the breakfast room, her eyes on her watch, fifteen minutes later.

“I do love a lady who is on time,” Tanner grinned.

“The table is no place to be boisterous, Tanner. Where are your manners? Good morning, Miss Roland.”