Shaded Light: The Case of the Tactless Trophy Wife: A Paul Manziuk and Jacquie Ryan Mystery (The Manziuk and Ryan Mysteries Book 1) (17 page)

“Is that why you chose to honor me by being my partner?”

“Of course. George only knows how to do a two-step, Douglass has no sense of rhythm, and Kendall prefers to jerk around to fast music. You were the obvious choice.”

“Oh? How would you describe me?”

“Smooth, charming, demanding, and dangerous.”

“In short, a good match for yourself.”

“Perhaps. But I think you’re also a romantic. So you’ll always come out on the losing end.”

“You’re not a romantic, I take it?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“Tough for Peter.”

“Peter has everything he wants.”

“In that case, you must be a pretty good actress.”

Eyebrows arched, she replied dryly, “Of course.”

“Isn’t there anyone you’ve ever cared for?”

“You mean besides myself?” Her eyes laughed at him.

“Naturally.”

“Once, when I was much younger, I almost did something foolish. But I stopped just in time. It wouldn’t have worked.”

“Speaking of doing something foolish, how did you like Shauna’s new look?”

“About as much as you expected me to.”

“You mean you didn’t like it?”

“That’s the only reason you did it, isn’t it? To annoy me.”

“Shauna enjoyed herself.”

“Did she indeed?”

“What’s the matter? Are you so insecure you’re afraid she’ll attract more men than you?”

She swore at him, but he only laughed.

She would have turned and walked away, but his left arm tightened around her waist and his right arm gripped her wrist.

“Face it,” he whispered into her ear. “I’m exactly what you’ve been looking for. A man you can’t wrap around your little finger. Somebody who knows exactly what you’re like and doesn’t care. Think what we could do together.”

“You have a high opinion of yourself.”

“Tell me you dislike meeting the one man who could master you.”

“What makes you think I’d ever want a man who could, as you say, ‘master me’?”

“All women like to know there exists a man stronger than them. Particularly if that man can give them everything they need.”

“And what do I need?”

“My intellect, my charm, and my passion for you.”

“You’re wrong. I don’t need anything from you.” But her eyes met his and he could see the smoldering fire in them.

“There’s only one problem,” he said.

“Perhaps the fact that I’m married?”

“Not in the slightest.”

“What then?”

The music ended, as if on cue, and he released her. “The fact that your sister is worth ten of you.”

She slapped him with all the strength she possessed. The sound reverberated through the momentary vacuum of the dance floor, and people looked over to see what had happened. Jillian walked away, leaving Bart alone on the floor with one hand to his reddening cheek.

Douglass and Ellen, and George and Anne, were on the dance floor. Kendall and Hildy were seated at the table. She’d been telling him a story about an elderly recluse who’d left an estate worth millions to her parakeet. All of them heard the slap.

As the music began again, Jillian came striding up to the table.

“Kendall, I want to dance.” She stamped one delicately shod foot. “Now.”

Kendall’s eyes met Hildy’s; he shrugged philosophically and got up.

Once on the dance floor, Kendall asked quietly, “So what did my cousin the creep say to annoy you?”

“I intend to dance. If you prefer to talk, I can always get another partner!”

When Bart joined Hildy at the table, she was surprised to see that he was laughing to himself, though there was little laughter in his eyes. The red mark on his face was quite pronounced, but he ignored it, ordered a drink, and began talking with Hildy about her job and her young son. He was surprised to learn that Peter had seen his son only once since his marriage to Jillian, and that Jillian had never even met him.

“Not that I’d want to see her with any child, whether someone else’s or her own,” said Hildy with a good deal of venom.

Looking out at the dance floor, Bart nodded. “You’re lucky the kid hasn’t spent any time with her.”

“Yes, that’s why I—”

“Why what?”

“Nothing important. Perhaps being married to Peter will help her grow up.”

“Maybe. But somebody sure needs to teach her a few things.”

Hildy glanced into his face, but there was no expression.

His eyes met hers and he smiled. “But why waste time talking about her when I’m sitting beside someone as attractive as you?”

Sunday morning came in hot and humid. There was little movement, except for Lorry, who had mentioned to Ellen the day before that she would like to go to church if it wasn’t inconvenient. Ellen had readily found her a map and offered her a car, and by 9:30, she was gone.

It was almost 11:00 before, one by one, the Brodies and their other guests ventured downstairs and gathered on the patio.

Except for Lorry, who hadn’t yet returned, Jillian and Shauna were the last. Today Jillian wore an apricot sundress with gold peep toe heels. As usual, every hair was in place and her skin glowed.

Shauna was in a Spanish-style bright orange blouse and full skirt, but she looked deathly pale beneath large sunglasses. All that remained of the stranger from the night before was the short hair.

Bart saw her and swore audibly.

Nick asked Ellen about Lorry.

“Oh, she’s been up for hours. She went off early to church. Said she’d be back by one at the latest.”

Thoughtfully, he went back to his table.

Jillian pecked at a fruit salad for a while and then sat looking at Shauna, who was across the table, eyes down, moving her scrambled eggs around the plate.

Between them, Peter dug ravenously into the mountain of pancakes with butter and syrup and bacon on his plate.

Jillian’s face took on a look of disgust as she watched him.

He caught her gaze and smiled.

She pushed away her dish of fruit and walked into the house. In a few minutes, she returned with a magazine and sat reading on a lounge chair a short distance from the tables.

The others ignored Jillian and finished eating, except for Shauna, who went over to sit beside her. They spoke, with low voices.

Bart, who was sitting at the closest table with Nick, Hildy, and Kendall, caught parts of the conversation. Several times he heard Shauna say, “I’m sorry.”

“Well, you should be.” Jillian’s voice raised slightly. “He’s no more than a two-bit con-man. His pockets are as empty as his brain. But of course,” she added scornfully, “if you prefer his advice to mine…”

Shauna hadn’t moved. Her head was down, eyes fastened on the empty glass she still held. “No, of course not. I’m sorry, Jillian. I won’t listen to him again. It’s just that he said I was dowdy.”

Jillian’s eyes narrowed. “I suppose he would prefer you to look the way you did last night. Like a stripper.”

“I’m sorry,” Shauna whispered, her eyes downcast.

“Stay away from him.” Jillian gracefully stood up, and sauntered over to where Anne and Ellen were sitting together at one of the tables.

The conversation abruptly came to a halt and Anne, pleading a headache, hurried into the house. Jillian raised her eyebrows, but didn’t comment. She calmly asked Ellen about getting season tickets to a theater she had mentioned.

Shauna hadn’t moved. Her head was bent, eyes fastened on the empty glass she still held in her trembling hand. A man’s hand reached down and pulled her chin up. She recoiled as Bart said harshly, “Wimp! Do you enjoy being the mat she wipes her feet on? Or do you let everyone walk all over you? You know, they outlawed slavery a long time ago, Rip van Winkle!”

Without replying, Shauna pushed his hand away and scrambled to her feet. The forgotten glass slipped from her fingers and splintered against the cement patio.

Bart watched her disappear inside the patio doors. He turned and saw Jillian laughing, presumably at something Ellen had said. But her eyes were on Bart. He strode away angrily in the direction of the garage.

He had to sidestep quickly as Lorry came around the corner of the house. She was dressed in a bright lime and turquoise floral dress and walking as if she hadn’t a care in the world.

“Have a nice time at church?” Bart asked, his voice sarcastic. Before she could answer, he continued, “Did the preacher tell you who you should be nice to and who you should avoid? There are certainly a few people around here that a good little Christian ought to avoid.”

“Well,” replied Lorry carefully, watching Bart’s face. “Actually the sermon was about some verses that talk about life in this world being only a vague shadow of reality.”

“Sounds like a philosophy course,” Nick said. He had hurried over the moment Lorry came around the corner.

“Perhaps,” replied Lorry. “But the verses simply mean that we only see things through a haze now. So often, we don’t understand why people act the way they do or why God allows certain things to happen. Often, we don’t even understand why we ourselves act the way we do. One day, God will allow us to see more clearly than we do now.”

“Meanwhile, we’re supposed to trust and obey?” Bart’s voice held sarcasm. “Do good to our enemies and all that stuff? Yeah, right. Too bad most preachers don’t know much about reality. I guess they’re all in this obscurity you’re talking about.” Leaving Lorry to stare at his back, he turned and walked across the terrace into the games room, where he went straight to the bar.

“Come and sit with Kendall and me,” suggested Nick. “You can tell us all about the church you went to.”

Forty minutes later, having finished a leisurely lunch while being entertained by Nick’s and Kendall’s stories of law school, Lorry went to her room to change. She found Shauna lying face down across her bed. It took a few minutes to coax her to sit up. Her face was red and puffy, the area around her eye purple and blue.

“Did your sister upset you again?”

“It’s that stupid Bart! I don’t know why I ever listened to him. I thought I could be somebody else, but I can’t.” She threw herself back onto her pillow, and her body shook with deep sobs.

Lorry knelt by the bed, but Shauna told her to go away. Lorry decided to change. She was about to put on her sandals when there was a firm knock at the door.

Opening it, she found Jillian. “I want to talk to Shauna,” Jillian said as she walked in. “Alone. You’ll have to go somewhere else.”

Lorry took her time doing up the straps on her sandals.

“Who is this?” Jillian was holding the picture Lorry had placed on her night table.

“A friend,” said Lorry.

“Looks your type.” Jillian set the picture down carelessly. “Hurry up, I don’t have all day!”

“Shauna,” said Lorry, “I’ll be just outside. If you need me, call.” She looked into Jillian’s eyes. “And if I were you, I’d watch your step. You’re going to go too far one of these days. Sometimes the worm has been known to turn.”

“You scare me half to death,” Jillian said out of the side of her mouth. “Now would you please get lost? Go chase after Nick some more since that appears to be what you came to do.”