Hide Yourself Away (31 page)

Elsa opened the door, resplendent in a form-fitting, marine blue evening gown, a diamond brooch in the shape of a seabird on her breast. Her hair was piled high on her head, just as she and Charlotte had both been coiffed the night of the first fundraiser. Though never beautiful, Elsa had held up amazingly well, thought Oliver. She didn’t look terribly different in her forties than she had in her twenties.

“You look lovely, Elsa.”

“Thank you, Oliver, dear. Come in and we’ll have a drink.”

Oliver didn’t move from the entryway. “I don’t think I should. I’ve already had a cocktail, and the last thing I want to do is appear inebriated at the party. I’ve no doubt people will be watching me more closely than ever.”

“All right, dear,” Elsa agreed, not wanting to upset him in any way. “I’ll get my purse.”

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117

Grace watched as the photographer had each arriving couple pose for a picture. Already, the photographer’s assistant was arranging developed photos on a large easel. Apparently, in addition to forking over substantial bucks to attend the Ball Bleu, the guests could shell out a few more for their souvenirs.

The partygoers chatted amiably, almost everyone apparently knowing one another. But as the new couple arrived, the small talk ceased.

Grace felt sorry for Oliver Sloane as she watched him hold his head high and put his arm around Elsa Gravell, his gold cuff link sparkling in the photographer’s flash. Grace inched close enough to see that it had the same design as the Shepherd’s Point sundial and Charlotte’s earrings.

  CHAPTER  
118

KEY News is in my way,
thought Mickey, as he glared at the satellite truck parked near the canopy of leaves at the service entrance to the mansion. The damned truck was making the path for the waiters going from the kitchen with silver trays of hors d’oeuvres to the guests on the lawn harder than it had to be.

He cursed as he watched one uniformed waiter bump into another. “That’s it.” He spat. “They have to move that truck.”

Mickey stalked over to the truck and knocked persistently on the cab door, getting the attention of the driver who snoozed inside. “You have to move this thing right away.”

Scott Huffman looked at the caterer without concern. “I’m not moving this rig anywhere, buddy, unless one of my bosses tells me to.”

Mickey scanned the beautiful grounds, searching among the carefully clipped ginkgo, maple, and linden trees. Between a massed rhododendron and an enormous weeping birch, he spotted the guy with a video camera. Mickey made a beeline to him and got right to the point. “You guys have to move. Your truck’s interfering with my waiters.”

B.J. looked in the direction Mickey indicated. “All right, pal. Calm down. I’ll see what we can do.”

  CHAPTER  
119

Her high heels kept sinking into the lawn, the mosquitoes were starting to bite, and now she was left alone while B.J. worked out the satellite truck problem. So far, the evening wasn’t turning out to be the romantic interlude Grace had found herself hoping for. From a professional stance, it wasn’t much better. Lauren seemed more interested in flirting and making connections with Newport’s society men than with shooting interviews for tomorrow morning’s package.

Grace decided to tour the grounds on her own. Trying to
avoid dirtying her patent leather heels further, she put her weight on the balls of her feet as she walked to the western edge of the property. Two small marble teahouses with copper roofs marked the entrance to a formal sunken garden with hundreds of pink and white begonias. Grace turned to look back up at the mansion and take in the view of all the partygoers against that impressive backdrop when she heard a giggle.

At the side of the teahouse, away from the sight of the guests but plainly visible to Grace, was her ex-husband. Frank was kissing a dark-haired woman. A brunette, not a blonde.

It wasn’t Jan.

Grace paused, not sure how to proceed. Finally, she cleared her throat, loud enough to make the lip-locked pair look her way. Grace wished she had a camera to capture the expression on her former husband’s face.

“Oh my God! Grace.”

She couldn’t help but smirk. “Nice evening, isn’t it, Frank?”

Frank turned to his companion. “Will you excuse me? I’ll meet up with you a little later.”

The brunette departed, walking across the lawn toward the tent and not looking particularly upset.
She might be married, too,
thought Grace.
This is probably a big game to her.

Grace looked at her former husband and shook her head.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk. And I thought you had such a fabulous thing going with Jan.”

“Cut it out, Grace. It’s none of your business.”

“Oh? Isn’t it? You want our daughter to come live with you in that perfect little home of yours and it’s none of my business? Let’s see.” Grace crooked her finger to her chin. “I wonder how a judge will feel about placing a child in a home where the father is a philanderer. In fact, I wonder what Jan would think of all this. Maybe I can go tell her now. After she finds this out, you may not have any home at all.”

Frank touched at the corners of his mouth with his handkerchief and held it out to inspect the lipstick he’d wiped away. She had him and he knew it. “All right, Grace. You win.”

“You’ll drop the custody suit?”

“Yes, as long as you don’t tell Jan.”

“And you’ll get caught up with the child support payments and start paying me on time from now on?”

He looked at her with contempt. “What choice do I have?”

“None, really. And by the way, what are you doing here anyway?”

“Jan had a bee in her bonnet about attending a Newport social event.”

Grace searched the crowd. “I don’t see her. Where is she?”

“I don’t know. I left her talking to some society matrons.”

“And where’s Lucy, Frank?”

“She’s back at the hotel.”

“By herself?” Grace was angry now.

“She’s old enough to be left alone, Grace. After all, we let her travel up to see me on the train all alone.”

“That was different, Frank. That was only for one hour, in broad daylight—not for an entire evening in a hotel room in a city reeling from a wave of murders.”

  CHAPTER  
120

Grace’s stomach twisted in knots as she strode away from the teahouse and Frank. It was debatable that Lucy was old enough to be left alone in a hotel room, but as far as Grace was concerned, there was no question that leaving her daughter by herself under the current circumstances was unthinkable. She’d never forgive herself if something were to happen to Lucy.

Grace noticed Detective Manzorella, snappily dressed in a dark suit with a striped tie and matching pocket square, positioned near the northeast corner of the massive blue tent, his dark eyes scanning the crowd, his expression solemn. She didn’t go over to him. She was in a hurry.

She found B.J. standing in the driveway, watching the satellite truck be repositioned.

“B.J., I’m sorry, but I have to go back to the hotel,” she said.

He looked at her with incomprehension. “What’s wrong? Are you sick?”

“No. It’s Lucy. My husband—I mean my former husband— left her alone. I don’t feel good about it, B.J.,” she apologized. “I have to go and make sure she’s all right.”

“Sure, I understand,” said B.J., though his face registered disappointment. He pulled the keys from his pocket. “Take the car. Lauren and I will find a way home. Don’t worry about it, Grace. We’ll be fine here.”

“I know you will be.” That was true enough. B.J. and Lauren could get done what they needed to without her. Grace pushed aside her own disappointment over not spending the evening with B.J., over not being part of covering the extravagant event. Maybe there was a lesson for her here. She was always going to put her child before her career. Yet, these were extraordinary conditions, Grace reasoned. If she knew Lucy was safe and secure, she would feel comfortable leaving her daughter to go to work. It was just that, right now, she couldn’t be sure about Lucy’s safety.

For Grace, there was no question what she had to do.

“Lucy, it’s me. Open up.” Grace rapped on the hotel room door. She could hear the
Law & Order
theme blaring from the television set inside.

She knocked again, louder this time. “Lucy, it’s Mom. Open the door, honey.”

Where was she? Grace felt her pulse quicken.
Don’t panic,
she told herself. Maybe Lucy had fallen asleep, maybe she was taking a shower.

Grace walked down the hall and grabbed the house phone from the wall near the elevator, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the receiver. After a dozen rings, Lucy still hadn’t picked up. Grace’s adrenaline pumped. She could wring Frank’s neck for leaving their child alone. Her mind began running through terrifying scenarios.

Just as Grace was trying to figure out what to do next, the elevator doors opened. Lucy strolled out, a package of Twizzlers in her hand.

“Hi, Mom. What are you doing here?”

“Oh God, Lucy.” Grace exhaled, wrapping her arms around her daughter. “I was so worried.”

Lucy looked at Grace, puzzled. “I just went downstairs to get some candy. No big deal.”

The last thing Grace wanted to do was raise a worried, insecure child. There was no use in berating Lucy. She hadn’t done anything wrong.

“What are you doing here?” Lucy asked again.

Grace didn’t want to lie to her daughter either. “A lot’s been going on around here, Luce. I didn’t think you should be left by yourself.”

“Dad said it was all right.” Lucy bit the end off a red licorice stick.

“Well, I don’t.” Grace spoke firmly. “Come on. Let’s go to my room so I can get out of these new shoes. They’re killing me.”

“You look great, Mom,” observed Lucy as they waited for the elevator doors to open again.

“Thanks, honey.”

“How did you know I was by myself anyway?”

“Dad told me.”

“Oh. You saw him at that party him and Jan went to?”

“He
and Jan,” Grace corrected her daughter. “Yes. I saw him there.”

Man, did I see him there,
Grace thought, smiling to herself and appreciating for the first time that Lucy would be staying with her—full time, forever.

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121

Detective Manzorella continued studying the faces of the guests and listening to snippets of conversations. But the call that came through on his cell phone excited him far more than anything the Ball Bleu had offered.

Sam Watkins had regained consciousness.

The detective hurried to his car and headed to Newport Hospital.

  CHAPTER  
122

The other chambermaids had long since gone, their morning and afternoon shifts completed. Izzie came in through the rear entrance, hoping she wouldn’t see any of the skeletal evening maintenance staff. She didn’t want to get into a conversation with anyone.

With her envelope tucked inside her handbag, she took the elevator to the second floor and walked down the hallway to Grace Callahan’s room. If she wasn’t there, Izzie planned to slide the envelope under the door and leave her phone number for Grace to call her. But Grace answered right away.