Full House (3 page)

"What'd I say?"

Nick did his best to control the laughter that threatened to overtake him. The funniest part of all was that Billie truly had no clue how her words had sounded. Later tonight, when she was tucked into bed in her sensible mother-type pajamas, she'd remember the double entendre and throw the covers over her head out of embarrassment. He'd give anything to be there, next to her, when it happened.

Too late, Billie realized how her words had probably sounded to the others. "That's not what I meant," she insisted. "I just don't like staring into a man's navel when I speak to him."

Deedee sighed. "He's not
that
big."

"I'd feel dwarfed beside him." Billie glanced around frantically. "Would somebody please call a waiter?" She glanced up and froze when she caught sight of a familiar face. Sheridan Flock was headed their way, followed by a man who looked to be a good ten years younger and model-handsome. She felt Nick stiffen beside her.

Sheridan paused at their table and her eyes fell on Nick. "Well, what have we here?" Her gaze flitted about. "Slumming tonight?"

Nick shrugged. "I might ask you the same thing, Sheridan," he teased, although Billie could sense the tension in his body language. "I thought you preferred French restaurants."

Billie wondered if the woman was following Nick, then told herself she was being paranoid.

"Not at all," Sheridan said. "You know me, I'm quite the adventuress."

Suddenly, there was silence. Billie shifted in her seat as Sheridan's gaze swung in her direction. She knew how ordinary she must look compared to the beauty wearing a simple black dress that hugged an absolutely perfect figure. Thin spaghetti straps emphasized her slender shoulders and shapely arms.

Finally, Deedee broke the silence. "A steak restaurant is right where she needs to be," she said. "Got to feed that growin' boy."

Billie suppressed a smile but Frankie laughed out loud.

Sheridan regarded Deedee. "Hello, there," she said. "I don't believe I've met the new man in your life, Deedee. Is this husband number six or seven?"

Deedee shrugged. "Actually, I've lost count, but nobody can ever accuse me of being always a bridesmaid but never a bride. Sheridan, honey, meet Frankie. He's a famous wrestler."

Frankie offered his hand, but Sheridan didn't take it. "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage," she said. "I don't get the opportunity to attend many wrestling matches these days."

"Sheridan, you'll have to pardon us for not inviting you and your friend to join us," Nick said politely, "but we obviously don't have room."

"Actually, I was on my way out," she said.

Deedee chuckled. "Probably past your boy's bedtime."

Sheridan laughed. "I see you still have that great sense of humor, Deedee. I admire a woman who can still hold her head high despite what others think of her."

"We simply must do lunch, honey," Deedee replied. She waited until the woman walked away before looking at Nick. "What a bitch."

"You held your own."

"I can't believe you almost married her. My God, she's wicked."

"Don't be so hard on her," Nick said.

Billie, who'd decided it was best to remain silent instead of swapping barbs, looked at him quizzically and wondered why he was defending the woman.

Deedee made a tsking sound. "Poor thing probably resents us for being able to stay out late. After all, she has to take that child home and tuck him in for the night."

When they finally left the restaurant more than an hour later

Deedee sprayed her flame-red hair and postured in her slinky black dress. "I don't know why you won't let me get you a date for tonight," she said to Billie. "Embassy parties are always so much fun. Especially when you're on the arm of a seven-foot wrestler. Everyone notices you." She pouted at the mirror and outlined her lips in glossy red lipstick. "I like being noticed." She shot Billie a look in the mirror. "Sure beats sitting at home waiting for Nick to call."

"I'm
not
waiting for Nick to call," Billie said defensively, at the same time thinking Deedee didn't need to be on the arm of a wrestler to be noticed. The woman was stunning all by herself, six feet tall in spike heels, with enough cleavage to give Dolly Parton a run for her money. The shimmering black material clung to her slim-hipped figure like plastic wrap while she rummaged through a huge chest of jewelry. "I plan to have a nice quiet evening at home. Besides, Nick is still hung up on that Flock woman."

"That bitch from hell?" Deedee exclaimed. She turned and made a sound of disgust. "What gave you that idea? They split up months ago."

"Did you know she was the one who broke the engagement? Broke Nick's heart."

Deedee turned back to the mirror. "I find that hard to believe. Nick began seeing other women the minute Miss Hoity-Toity boarded the plane for Europe. We're talking about my cousin here. Trust me, he's not cut out for celibacy." Deedee winced. "Oh, shoot, I shouldn't have said that, what with you having the hots for him and all."

"It's okay," Billie said, pretending she was trying to hide her disappointment. "Nick is way out of my league."

"I hope you're not comparing yourself to Sheridan, honey, because let me tell you, you've got her beat by a mile. She's not half the woman you are. She's shallow."

"Thanks, Deedee."

"I'm not just saying that to make you feel good. I've known her since grade school, and she's nothing but a spoiled daddy's girl. Got worse after her mother died. What Sheridan wants, Sheridan gets." Deedee paused to catch her breath. "Her daddy is a retired three-star general with power and money who isn't opposed to throwing his weight around when it comes to his little girl. Sheridan is just like him."

"Maybe she wants Nick back."

"Nick is smarter than that."

Deedee threw her hands into the air. "Oh, hell. It's not here. The limo is on the way, and I haven't got my Stargio."

"What's a Stargio?" Billie asked, although she was still curious about Nick's relationship with Sheridan. Was Nick still in love with her, and if so, why was he kissing Billie?

"It's a necklace," Deedee said. "Stargio is the name of the guy who designed it for me. Diamonds and emeralds. Dammit, I got this dress just for the Stargio. I know where I left it, too. It's at Nick's. It's in the little safe in the guest room."

"Nick has a safe in his guest room?"

Deedee dialed a number on the bedside phone and waited impatiently. "No answer." She dialed another number, got an answer, and asked for Nick. "He isn't home, and he isn't at the barn. He's in Upperville looking at a horse," she told Billie, hanging up the phone. "You see what I mean about him? He's unreliable. Now what am I going to do? I can't possibly go to that party without my Stargio."

Billie wondered if Nick had made the trip alone, then chided herself. It was none of her business. Just because he'd kissed her silly didn't mean he was ready to choose a china pattern. She was overreacting. Men kissed women all the time.

"Maybe he'll be home in a little while."

"I can't wait." Deedee took her black satin evening purse from the dresser. "I'll just have to go over to Nick's house and get it. Can I borrow your minivan? Mine is in the garage getting fixed. People keep smashing into it."

Billie remembered Nick's warning about letting Deedee drive. "Maybe I should take you. It might be hard to drive in those heels," she added tactfully.

"That'd be great." Deedee hugged her. "You're such a good friend. We'll leave a note on the door in case Frankie gets here before we get back."

Fifteen minutes later Billie pulled into the circular driveway of Nick's stately country house. The ivy-covered, redbrick house sat a good distance from the road, hidden from sight by a small hill, and separated from the stable by a copse of evergreens. It reminded Billie of the Governor's Palace in Colonial Williamsburg.

"Is this the first time you've seen Nick's house?" Deedee asked as if noting Billie's look of awe.

Billie nodded her head. "It's very nice."

"Nick bought it from some earl. This earl person had the bricks brought all the way from England."

Billie and Deedee walked to the door and knocked. "No one home," Deedee said. "And the door's locked. Damn." They walked to the back of the house where they tried several more doors. All locked. "Nick was robbed four years ago," Deedee explained. "Now he keeps everything shut up tighter than a clam at high tide." She sighed. "If Max were around, he could get us in. There isn't an alarm system that Max can't decode."

"Who's Max?"

"Maximillian Holt. He's my bratty kid brother, the sixteen-year-old genius who keeps blowing up things around here."

Billie took a step back. "Blowing up things?"

Deedee seemed more interested in figuring out a way to get into the house than discussing her little brother. "Don't worry, he wouldn't hurt a fly, and he doesn't blow up big things. He just does it to get Nick's attention," she added.

"That would work for me." Billie shook her head sadly. Nick was living in a house with a kid who blew up things? Was anyone in the family normal? "Uh, Deedee?"

"Don't worry about Max, honey. He hasn't been seen in days."

Billie was relieved to hear it. "Does anyone know where he is?"

"Probably hiding in the woods. Max is very self-reliant." She carefully stepped into a bed of begonias and tried a window. "Any normal millionaire would have this house staffed with servants, but not Nick. He makes do with a part-time cleaning lady and a caretaker. And Fong, but he's pretty much retired. Nick even does his own cooking. Can you imagine not having a
cook?"

Billie had never wanted a cook. "I like to do my own cooking," she said. She glanced about as she talked. "What does Max look like?"

"He's dark and skinny. Nothing to write home about, but you mark my word, that kid is going to be a hunk when he grows up. I can tell these things." She backed up several feet and pointed to an upstairs window. "That was my room. That's where my Stargio is."

Billie was beginning to feel nervous about skulking around in the bushes. It wasn't in her nature to peek into other people's windows, and the thought of running into Max was unnerving. "Maybe we should try up at the stable. Maybe there's a spare key."

"No way am I going to deal with Arnie the jerk. He gives me the heebie-jeebies. Besides, would you leave your house key with a man who looks like he belongs on the FBI's Most Wanted list?"

"Nick mentioned firing someone. I think it may have been Arnie, but I'm not sure." She wondered why Nick had hired the man in the first place.

Deedee didn't seem to be listening. "Come on."

"What are you going to do?"

Deedee marched to the patio at the back of the house and set her sights on a pair of French doors. "I'm getting my necklace." She took an insulated metal coffee carafe that had been left sitting on a lawn table and swung it into one of the small panes in the patio door. Shards of glass tinkled onto the slate floor and an alarm went off both inside and outside the house.

Billie had a moment of heart-stopping immobility and then planted her feet in sprint position. "Let's go!"

"Don't be a wimp," Deedee said. "It's just a silly alarm." She reached inside the broken pane and unlocked the door. "Come on, this will only take a minute."

"This is breaking and entering!"

Deedee waved her red nails. "Nick won't mind. He's always telling me I should be more resourceful. He'll be proud of me."

"Do I hear dogs?"

"Oh, my God, I forgot about the dogs!" Deedee pulled Billie inside the house and slammed the patio door shut just as a pack of assorted dogs came bounding through the patch of evergreens.

"Terrific," Billie shouted over the alarm. "First the alarm goes off, then a herd of attack dogs descends on us. Not only that, there's a madman running loose, or should I say
kid,
who plays with explosives. What next?"

Deedee clacked across the terracotta tile floor of the solarium and looked out a front window. "Oh, crud, it's the police. I swear, you'd think they were watching the place." She shrugged. "Probably worried that Max will go off the deep end." She turned on her heel and started up a broad central staircase. "You explain all this to them while I get my necklace."

Billie stared at the flashing lights. Don't panic, she told herself, at the same time wondering how they'd managed to arrive on the scene so quickly. She felt as if she were right smack in the middle of a bad dream, only her eyes were wide open. She licked her dry lips. She'd never been arrested. She'd never had a traffic ticket. She'd led an exemplary life. And now she was going to have to explain to the police that her friend was upstairs breaking into a safe.

She opened the front door and gave a tentative wave to the inhabitants of three squad cars. Deedee had gone too far this time. Billie only hoped their prison wardrobe came in orange because Deedee had claimed she looked hideous in that color.

"This is all a mistake," Billie said, knowing it would never fly.

"Hands in the air, lady," an officer shouted, aiming his gun at her.

Her stomach took a nosedive. Billie immediately raised her hands over her head. "Please let me explain," she called back loudly, trying to make herself heard over the noisy alarm. "I'm not a real burglar. See, Deedee, Mr. Kaharchek's cousin, needed her Stargio. It's some kind of jewelry designed specifically for one of her evening gowns," she added in case the officers wondered what she was talking about.

One of them rolled his eyes. "Deedee Holt, the ditsy redhead?"

Billie nodded and expelled the air that had been trapped in her lungs. It gushed out like a hot furnace. "Deedee insists her shoes and jewelry match her clothes. I personally don't care about such things."

The officer came forward. "You can put your hands down."

Billie almost wept her relief. They knew Deedee. It was going to be okay.

He punched a code into the small wall computer and silenced the alarm. "This isn't her car," he said, pointing to Billie's minivan.