Night Scents (29 page)

"I don't."

"I mean, ass," she said affectionately, "that your role in your relationship with your brothers is just as important as theirs. You use them to get yourself off the hook with men."

"Off the hook with what men? They've scared half the men in town away, and the other half they won't let near me."

Liddy hooted in disbelief. "And you name me one man in town that ever seriously interested you. Just one, Piper."

"That's not the point."

"It's exactly the point. Which isn't to say Andrew and Benjamin aren't utter pains in the ass at times." She flipped back long, blond hair with one hand, blue eyes twinkling. "And, of course, you know I wasn't including Clate Jackson among the men from town."

"So?"

"Piper, I swear, I don't know why your brothers haven't tied a rock around your ankle and pitched you into the bay by now. Speaking of pains in the ass! So," she said, "I am not blind, I am not stupid, I am not naive. I saw the sparks flying between you and Jackson yesterday at the hospital."

"You imagined—"

"I saw. And so did Andrew and Benjamin."

Piper blanched. "They told you?"

"Are you kidding? They're pretending if they don't say anything, what they saw won't be real. That's nonsense, of course. What they saw was real enough. They'd just feel a whole lot better if they remotely trusted Clate Jackson to do right by you."

"Do you trust him?"

They exited Piper's house through the front door. Liddy stopped in the walk and gave her sister-in-law a sly grin. "After seeing him, I figure trust is probably not real high on your list of priorities involving our rich Tennessean. This is something I understand. I won't say your brothers do. The double standard and all that."

Piper couldn't stop a flush of embarrassment at Liddy's obvious conclusion that her sister-in-law and Clate Jackson had been to bed together.

"Oh," Liddy squealed, sliding into her car, "I love being right."

When they arrived at the hospital, Hannah was chomping at the bit to go. She got dressed while Piper spoke to her doctor, which irritated Hannah no end. She could see to her own medical affairs, thank you. But Piper insisted.

The doctor, no youngster himself, said he could find no physical reason why Hannah might have passed out. Without coming right out and saying so, he indicated his belief that she'd simply dozed off at the wheel, and it seemed less frightening and embarrassing to her to claim to have passed out.

Hannah sat up front with Liddy and scowled around to Piper in back. "That old fool told you I faked passing out to save face, didn't he?"

"He was really very polite about it."

"I'm old, not stupid. I know the difference between passing out and falling asleep. And who on earth would I want to save face for? You all have seen me at my best and my worst since you were tots."

This was true. Piper sighed. "It doesn't matter, Hannah. You're out of there."

"Yes." She sat back with satisfaction, hands folded on her lap. "Thank you for bringing me my clothes, Piper. You found everything all right?"

"Not everything," Piper said cryptically.

But not cryptically enough. Her sister-in-law glanced suspiciously into her rearview mirror, and Piper tried to keep a neutral expression. As circumspect as Liddy was, she wasn't above tattling to her husband and brother-in-law that sister Piper and aunt Hannah hadn't quite told them everything.

When they arrived at her townhouse, Hannah announced that Piper should stay for a while. "I'm feeling a little wobbly." This, Piper knew, was pure fiction. Even if true, Hannah would never admit to feeling lousy unless it suited her. "A night in the hospital will do that to anyone." She shuddered. "Modern medicine."

Liddy was in no mood. "It's better than leeches."

Hannah gave her a cool look. "I suppose you have a point. But I believe in promoting good health through preventive care, and resorting to needles, pharmaceuticals, machines, and carving knives only when absolutely necessary, and not just to pay the light bill or provide new boats for the doctors."

"Since when have you become so cynical?"

Hannah gave an airy toss of the head, apparently forgetting she was supposed to look wobbly. "Since this morning when I insisted on seeing my bill before I left. One night in the hospital! One night! A family of four could have lived on that much for a year in nineteen seventeen. And did."

Liddy glanced at her. "I suppose you would know. Look, I have specific orders not to leave you two alone. Piper doesn't have her car, and yours is in the shop."

"But she can call you, can't she? Or her father or one of her brothers?" Hannah smiled sweetly, but was immovable. "There's always that nice man who bought my house. He has a lovely car."

"You're making this hard on me." Liddy appealed to her sister-in-law. "Piper, you know Benjamin and Andrew are going to think you two are up to something."

Which they were. Piper shrugged. "Let them. If they're so suspicious, they can come over. They'll only find us brewing sage tea."

"It's not just suspicion, it's worry."

"Phooey." Hannah climbed out of the car in a spurt of energy, but she quickly shot a hand to her temple and pretended to ward off a dizzy spell. She smiled at Liddy. "You're a sweet woman, my dear. But if Piper and I are to be attacked by wild dogs, so be it. There's not a thing you could do if you stayed."

Liddy gripped the wheel. "I'm not sticking up for either of you ever again."

Piper laughed. "Liddy, you're a sweetheart. You got more than you bargained for when you married into this crazy family. I'll be careful, and I'll watch Hannah. Promise."

Reluctantly, Liddy finally agreed and left her husband's sister and great-aunt to their own devices. Hannah made a point of taking Piper's arm as they headed up the walk to her front door. "Your hand's cold," Piper said.

"It's that hospital," Hannah sneered, and left it at that.

She had to have a hot, restorative cup of sage tea before she would even permit the mention of poisoned water jugs. Piper was fidgety enough, she had a cup as well. Sage was considered a woman's herb, its healing and preventive qualities on the female reproductive system well known. Where there was a thriving sage garden, there was a strong woman. Or so the belief went. And, used externally, it was a good hair rinse, something Piper kept in mind when she was drinking the stuff.

"There." Hannah rested back against the tall wingbacked chair in her living room. "I feel much better. I should have had you smuggle me in a cup last night."

"I've done enough sneaking around on your behalf."

"So you have. Now. Am I to assume you didn't find the water jugs."

Piper set down her china cup; she'd only drunk half her tea. "I looked everywhere, Hannah. I didn't find either of them. No fresh jug filled with water, no empty jug. Unless you keep your water somewhere I didn't look, they're gone."

She looked mildly offended. "I keep my water in the refrigerator or store it in the broom closet."

"I looked both places, and on the deck, and in the trash."

"Then someone stole them."

Piper had guessed that was coming. "There's no sign of forced entry, and your doors were all locked. Who else has a key besides me?"

"The director of the complex and your father."

"I can speak to both of them and make sure their copy wasn't stolen. But that'll mean explaining to them why I want to know."

Hannah's brow furrowed, and she was thoughtful a moment, finally emitting a small sigh. "Perhaps you should hold off."

Piper's heart jumped. "Hannah,
were
there any water jugs?"

"Of course there were." She spoke without irritation, almost absently; her green eyes had glazed over. She rubbed her temple. "I need to think. My dreams—" With obvious effort, she jerked her chin up and focused on her niece. "You should go now, Piper. I need to be alone."

Piper remained in her chair. "What is it, Hannah?"

She shook her head. "Leave. Please."

"Hannah."

A small smile. "I'm fine. Truly. Now call someone for a ride and wait outside. I must be alone."

"I'll walk into town," Piper said. She remembered date's opinion that her aunt was withholding information. "It's not that far, and I need the exercise. Frankly, there's not a single soul I want to see right now. I'm not in the mood to argue about where I've been, what I'm doing. Geez, I'm going to be watched like a bug on a pin." She shook off the indignity of her situation. "Look, Hannah, if this is some witchy thing you're doing—"

"What difference does it make to you? And walk, if you wish. I expect your Clate will be along before you get too far."

If she were so damned clairvoyant, why couldn't she have sensed her water was poisoned? But Piper let that inconsistency go for now. "Hannah, he's not my anything."

"Oh, but he is. I'm more sure of it now than ever."

Piper's brothers paid Clate a visit after he'd made a few business calls, read his morning faxes from Mabel Porter, and refilled the holes in his back yard that were empty of buried treasure.

From their dusty, paint-stained appearance in his driveway, he guessed the two men had sacrificed their lunch hour to read him the riot act or do whatever it was they'd come to do. Macintosh & Sons, he'd discovered, was a class outfit. The father and two sons were knowledgeable, skilled, hardworking, and principled. Clate could have chosen a similar path at sixteen. He'd liked the physical part of his work, that incomparable sense of accomplishment when, at the end of the day, he had something concrete to show for his labor. But he'd relished the excitement of putting together deals, getting fresh projects off the ground, finishing them, moving on to the next. The money, the thrill, the power, the respect—they all contributed to his satisfaction with what he did.

Yet here he was, alone on Cape Cod, having a white-hot affair with a woman who valued her life and reputation in her little hometown.

It was Benjamin who spoke first. "I'll be straight with you, Clate. People are talking behind your back. I don't like it, and neither does Andrew, but we can't help hearing things. It's a small town. We've been the subject of that kind of talk ourselves." He paused, apparently waiting for Clate to respond. "Okay. I'll put it this way. We'd better not find out you're at the bottom of what's been going on with Piper and Hannah."

Clate gave the man credit for laying it out to him straight. "And why would I be?"

Andrew stirred. "Because something's in it for you."

"Such as?"

Benjamin shrugged expansively. "Profit. You wouldn't be the first outsider to take advantage of the locals around here." As if Cape Codders themselves had never done damage to their own land and futures by going for short-term gain. "You make a few calls, get Piper all worked up about living out here alone. Next thing, she sells you her land."

As upset as she was about the calls, Piper was taking them in enviable stride, Clate thought. If anything, she'd only dig in her heels and stay put if she guessed someone was trying to move her, much less sell her land to a Nashville developer. Her brothers, however, had their own ideas about their younger sister.

"I don't resort to scare tactics when I want something. And most of my projects have been in downtown Nashville, except for my hotel, which was on land that everyone agreed was open to development." But he understood what the brothers were trying to tell him. "I bought this place because I needed a retreat. That's the best I can explain it. A resort on thirty acres." He sighed. "That's not what I do."

"Then if it's not you," Andrew said, "someone in your outfit's talking out of turn."

"I suppose someone from Tennessee could be making inquiries." He considered the prospect a moment, liked it less and less. "Could be an enemy rather than a friend. Someone who wants to know my plans. If I'm distracted up here, perhaps they can move in on me down there."

Benjamin shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "You don't trust anyone, do you?"

"I have no illusions about people."

"Must be a hard way to live," Andrew said.

Clate had the feeling Andrew Macintosh understood just how hard, if for different reasons. "The point is, even if I would employ such tactics, I have nothing to gain by harassing your sister and exploiting your aunt."

"You bought her house."

"It was for sale, and I paid far more than I needed to pay."

"Why?"

Clate met Andrew's intent stare. "I liked the location."

"What about the house itself?" Benjamin asked.

"I don't care about the house." And then he knew: there was more. He frowned. "What is it?"

Benjamin sighed. "Another credible rumor floated to us this morning. Says you're looking into the historic value of the Frye house so you can have it moved or torn down."

He gave a short, bitter laugh. "Why bother? If I do nothing, it'll collapse on its own before too long."

Both brothers' professional interest was piqued. They muttered for a few moments about how they'd warned Hannah for years to fix up the place, about its pristine lines, its potential. But they quickly brought themselves back to their point. Benjamin said, "So is that a denial? You're not interested in having this house moved, either to make way for a resort or a new house?"

"What difference does it make if I want to build a new house?"

A stupid question. He knew it instantly. This was Cape Cod, this was New England, and his was, by any definition, a historic house, even if never placed on the national register. There'd be pickets, letters to the editor, and general hell to pay if he decided to take an ax to the place and put up something new, to better take advantage of the sea breeze, the views, the technological advances of the past century or two. No wonder Hannah had decided to sell.

And he'd paid her every last dime of her asking price. He hadn't negotiated, as much proof as he probably needed that the old woman was a witch after all.

"Never mind," he said. "I haven't even decided if I like Cape Cod, never mind what to do with this house."