Monkey Wrench (20 page)

Bessie was happy to head for the barn, and Susannah had to be firm to keep the mare moving at a sedate pace. They reached the Vaughn farm just as night gathered its shadows. Mr. Vaughn helped Joe put the trees into the truck, while Susannah paid the bill and bought a jug of cider to take home to her grandmother. On a whim, she also purchased two pumpkin cookies and shared them with Joe in the truck on the way back to town.

The first stop was Worthington House, where Joe was greeted with great affection and Susannah was treated to the star treatment, Worthington House-style.

“You look prettier in person,” snapped old Inger Hansen, an eternally cranky woman who had once conducted excruciating deportment classes for the young girls of Tyler. She glared into Susannah's face and demanded, “How come you don't look so nice on television?”

Other residents of Worthington House were much happier to see the visitors and crowded around as Joe dragged the Christmas tree into the old parlor. Their voices rose in excitement as he began fastening the tree securely in an antique iron stand. Someone pressed a cup of tea on Susannah, and several elderly people engaged her in conversation. But one of the well-meaning attendants began banging out Christmas carols on the piano in the corner, drowning out attempts to talk, and Susannah was content to watch Joe in action.

He was friendly and kind to the elderly residents of the institution, treating everyone with the same magnanimous good humor he did anyone he encountered on the streets of Tyler.

Watching him, Susannah began longing to be alone with him again. She wanted to bundle him into his coat and scarf once more and slip her arm through his to walk out to the truck. She ached to feel the warmth of his body against hers again, to listen to his whispered laughter in her ear and seek his kisses in privacy. Impatiently, she willed him to finish adjusting the damn tree.

I want you for myself,
she thought.
Forgive me for being so selfish, but I want to hold you in my arms again.

Getting out of Worthington House took forever. One woman insisted that Joe take a look at the Christmas quilt she had been working on with the other members of the Quilting Circle.

“You'd be interested in this, Susannah,” said the woman as they crowded around the quilting frame. “Your grandmother helps us every Tuesday and Thursday. We're hoping to finish the quilt in time to raffle it to raise money for the children's wing of the hospital.”

Susannah had to admit the quilt was a masterpiece. Made of green and red patches—all circles—combined with gold appliqués and a subtle gold thread that traced the figures of a madonna and child, the quilt was of museum quality. Perhaps Joe didn't fully appreciate the design and workmanship, but Susannah was most impressed. She told the members of the Quilting Circle so, and exchanged tips with the ladies. If she'd been looking for ideas to use in her “Oh, Susannah!” program, the Tyler Quilting Circle would have made an excellent feature.

“Sure is pretty,” Joe announced to the crowd of beaming ladies. “I guess I'll have to buy a few chances.”

Then he caught Susannah's arm and gave her a surreptitious tug—a silent signal she interpreted to mean he was anxious to leave, too. But the piano player begged him to sing for everyone and he was soon swept away, much to Susannah's frustration.

“Are you and Mr. Santori an item these days?” asked one gimlet-eyed woman.

“Just friends,” Susannah said, but the woman's smile was knowing and called Susannah a liar.

“Excuse me,” said another voice at Susannah's elbow. “Aren't you Oh, Susannah?”

She turned and found herself face-to-face with a handsome middle-aged man who had a strong, distinguished face and flecks of gray at his temples. “Why, yes, I am.”

He shook her hand warmly. It was obvious to Susannah that he was not a resident of Worthington House, but was perhaps visiting an elderly relative there. A tall, vital man, he seemed to radiate wealth and power. His cable-knit sweater was of fine quality, and his tailored trousers looked expensive, too. Susannah got the impression that he had taken off the coat of his business suit and put on the sweater to pay a social call at Worthington House. The top of his tie showed at the neckline of the sweater.

Pleasantly, he said, “You probably don't remember me. I'm Edward Wocheck.”

“Why, of course!” Susannah smiled, finally putting a name to his familiar face. Although Edward was several years older than she, he had spent his youth in Tyler and she remembered seeing him around town when she was a little girl. “How have you been?”

“Very well, thanks.” He seemed pleased to be remembered. “I catch your program on television now and then, and I always say to myself, ‘There's that pretty young Atkins girl from my old hometown!' I must say, you make all of us Tyler folks proud.”

She laughed. “Thank you very much.” She stepped back from the crowd and into an alcove with Edward, and they began to chat. Politely making conversation, she said, “What about you? Are you still living in Tyler?”

“No, my business takes me all over the country. I'm just back in town because I'm in the process of buying a piece of property—Timberlake, in fact, the Ingallses's lodge. Do you remember the place?”

“Oh, yes, I was just visiting the lodge today.”
So it's Eddie Wocheck who's buying Timberlake,
she thought. “The building is still magnificent, isn't it?”

He grinned as if they were sharing a secret. “I think so. I'm hoping to turn the lodge into a resort. I may even put an addition onto the place to make more hotel rooms. To tell the truth, I can see a wonderful European-style hotel running up there on the lake.”

“How exciting!”

He laughed. “It is for me. Tonight I'm visiting my father to learn more about the old place.”

“He used to work for the Ingalls family at the lodge, didn't he?”

“Yes. And I've been trying to pump him for information—just to learn a few things about the past so I can build on it.”

“I see. Your father is a resident of Worthington House?”

“For the time being. He retired as caretaker of the lodge when Judson Ingalls hired that Forrester fellow, and he's lived at Kelsey Boardinghouse ever since. But he fell and broke his hip recently, and can't really take care of himself. My father seems happy to be living here.” Edward lifted his palms helplessly. “I wish I could be in Tyler to look after him more, but he seems to be in good hands. The staff here at Worthington House have really made him feel welcome.”

“That's one nice thing about a small town. People stick together.”

“Yes.”

Susannah tried to mentally file away all the information she had learned from Edward Wocheck so she could relate the details to her grandmother. Like everyone else in Tyler, Rose would be very interested in learning who was planning to buy the lodge. Susannah almost asked Edward what he thought about the mystery that was consuming the Ingalls family, but she decided the question might be inappropriate to ask the new owner.

Looking over at the group of people gathered around the piano, Edward said, “That's Joe Santori, isn't it? The fellow singing over there, I mean. I met him at the lodge when I was touring the place. He's a contractor.”

“Yes, he is.”

“He certainly has a wonderful singing voice.”

That's not all,
Susannah almost said. At the mention of Joe's name, she gazed into the crowd to find him among the elderly residents. He looked happy as he sang a jaunty version of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus” to the laughing
group of women. When he finished singing, he could hardly edge his way out of the merry throng.

But at last he approached Susannah, smiling. “Ready to go?”

“Yes. You've met Edward Wocheck, haven't you, Joe?”

“Sure.” Joe shook the older man's hand. “How's your deal with Judson Ingalls going?”

Edward gave him a rueful smile. “As well as can be expected, I suppose. Judson and I don't have a good history.”

“Oh? I didn't notice any hard feelings when you two were at the lodge the other day.”

“Well, our argument goes back a long way,” Edward said, though he did not go into detail about the conflict. He added, “Maybe time has healed the wound a little. Anyway, I think we've just about made a deal. Judson's being reasonable.”

“He's been having a rough time lately,” Joe said.

“I'm sure everything will turn out fine,” Edward said. “Well, I must get back to my father. It's been nice talking with you two. I hope you have a merry Christmas.”

“Thank you,” Susannah murmured as Edward walked off into the residents' wing of Worthington House. To Joe, she said softly, “I wonder what's going on around here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not sure,” Susannah said slowly. “But there's something fishy, I think. The deal with the lodge...doesn't it seem odd that Judson has kept Timberlake all these years and now suddenly he's decided to sell it? Just after you discovered a body on the grounds? And why was Eddie so secretive about his ‘argument' with Judson? I just wonder if we know the whole story yet.”

“Maybe we can discuss that later. Right now there's only one story that's got me on the edge of my seat,” Joe said, bending down to whisper in Susannah's ear. “What's going to happen between the two of us?”

The warmth of his breath along her hairline gave Susannah the sudden urge to close her eyes and sigh. But that rude inner voice interrupted again.
Don't you mean what's going to happen
among the three of us?
she thought.
What about Angelica?

If she existed. Susannah had a suspicion that something fishy was happening with Gina Santori, too, but she didn't mention her theory to Joe. If Gina had lied about the existence of another woman in Joe's life, that was an issue Susannah felt should be taken up with Gina, not her father.

But she didn't say that. Instead, she couldn't resist taking Joe's hand and pulling him toward the door. Joe grabbed up their coats from the hallway and they called their goodbyes to the gathered residents of Worthington House who were just starting to string colored lights on their Christmas tree.

Outside on the porch, Joe helped Susannah into her coat, but instead of zipping it up, he pulled her close and kissed her mouth abruptly. Despite the cold air, Susannah felt very warm indeed.

“What was that for?” she asked, smiling up at him when he pulled back.

“For being a good sport,” he replied. “The most beautiful good sport I've ever known. I want to be alone with you, Miss Suzie.”

“Take me home, then.”

“Your grandmother's there.”

“Your home?”

He shook his head. “My daughter's got a friend spending the night. They're probably destroying my kitchen at this very moment.”

It was a long drive to Susannah's apartment in Milwaukee, but for one mad moment she thought of proposing such an expedition. She knew exactly what Joe meant by wanting to be alone with her. She wanted the same thing. In a private place, they could let their instincts take over. It was a scary thought, but Susannah felt as if a primitive side of herself was already in command.

“I guess your truck is the best we can do,” she said with an unsteady sigh. “It's a good place to talk.”

“Talk isn't what I had in mind,” Joe said darkly, but he
slipped his hand under Susannah's elbow just the same and guided her down the porch steps.

Joe felt his heartbeat start to race as soon as he deposited Susannah on the seat of the truck. A minute later he climbed in the driver's side, his breath clouding the air inside the truck. He knew he ought to be feeling cold, but he wasn't. Instead, his insides felt as if they were on fire.

Susannah was shivering, he could see. But Joe didn't reach for the ignition to get the heater going. He suspected Susannah wasn't shivering from the cold, either, but from something else.

He half turned in the seat to look at her in the light that slanted from Worthington House. “You're trembling, Miss Suzie.”

Her blue eyes were wide, and she stared at him with the expression of a frightened doe mesmerized by headlights. “I'm not sure why. I had a nice time tonight. The tree looked lovely....”

“Forget about the tree. That's not why you're shaking like a leaf. Shall I take you home?”

“No...”

He felt his own grin start. “I'm not ready for the night to be over yet, either.”

She remained on her side of the seat, observing Joe through eyes that looked positively smoldering in the shadowy light. Then Joe laughed and reached for her hand. “Miss Suzie, when you were a teenager, did you ever climb into the back seat of a car with a boy?”

“Heavens, no.”

“Then it's time you tried it.”

He pulled, drawing an unresisting Susannah across the seat toward him. Softly, he asked, “Shall we pretend we're a couple of kids again?”

She was in his arms then, willing, but charmingly awkward. “Necking in the cold?”

He laughed against her cheek, enjoying the fragrance of her soft skin and the warmth of her slender body. He couldn't
help slipping one hand inside her jacket, finding the curve of her back and running a caress down her spine. “The idea turns me on, Miss Suzie. Does it do the same for you? Do you feel young again?”

“With you, yes.”

She looped her arms around his neck, but she didn't press close. Her half-turned position invited his touch, and Joe found himself tentatively exploring the contours of her body. His hand on her clothing made a quiet, staticky sound, and Joe felt the tiny flickers of electricity at his fingertips. He slid down her back, then found her hip and memorized its shape. From there, he allowed his fingers to slowly travel up her side, to brush across her belly and reach the underside of her breast, where he hesitated. He could feel her breast, so deliciously full and tempting. As he caressed her gently, sensing the weight of her womanly curve, he watched Susannah's face. It was perfection—all smooth ovals and delicate skin lighted by those lovely blue eyes that suddenly looked languorous, and he paused before touching her intimately. She parted her lips ever so slightly to allow a small sigh of pleasure as his hand lingered beneath her breast.