The Vicarage Bench Anthology (15 page)

The doctor put his writing implements down slowly, leaned towards Carrie, and scooped both her hands gently into his. He smiled into her eyes and said something so disconcerting that she couldn’t catch her breath.

“Mr. Parks,” he said, “can you hear me? I’d like to talk with you, now, if you don’t mind.” His voice was adamant and knowing.

Carrie smiled and relaxed while a deeper timbre answered the confident man. “I’m astounded, Doctor. How did you know what happened? And that I’ve joined with Carrie?”

“Let’s just say I’ve had previous experience with that particular rosebush and bench. How are you feeling, Mr. Parks? Are you quite comfortable?”

“Please call me Rhett. I’m experiencing a sense of weakness now, with my body so far away. Sir, I’ve never wanted anything more than I want to be back with my own flesh and bones. Can you help us?”

“Yes, my dear fellow. I feel completely optimistic. I do believe I can. But it won’t be possible until your body is brought back. We need all of you here. We can do nothing until then. I do promise you, though, that making the exchange is achievable.”

The two people—three new friends—spent the next hours going over all the circumstances, and one thing became abundantly clear. Carrie would be flying to Las Vegas.

Thank goodness for the two hundred pounds she’d robbed. Maybe crime did pay after all.

* * *

Arranging for the time off work was exhausting. Mr. Browning resembled a belligerent twit, but Carrie persevered and left his office victorious. Her stomach, twisted in knots, ached for hours afterwards, while her interior companion fumed silently. In the end, she accepted the discomfort and considered it a small price to pay for a trip she’d never envisioned making.

The Poppets were surprisingly supportive and encouraged her to take the holiday. The fib she concocted, about being hired as a companion to travel to the States with the fellow in the hospital, was accepted without question. In fact, her grandmother insisted on a shopping trip, in order for Carrie to get some new clothes, and even purchased a new suitcase to put them in. Her grandfather slipped her an envelope as she stepped toward the taxi waiting to take her to the airport. His orders were barked in a joking tone accompanied by a cheeky wink. “Have a spot of fun, Carrie, or you’ll feel the back of me hand on your backside, if you don’t.”

Chapter Nine

Carrie arrived in the fun city late the next evening. From the window of the plane the city looked like a thickly jeweled necklace spread over a sea of black velvet. The place hummed with activity. Even the buildings, teeming with people, seemed alive. Each casino’s thousands of colored lights were as active as a continuous fireworks display and the brilliance kept the darkness of the night from intruding anywhere in the downtown limits.

Her eyes were rounded pools of amazed disbelief as the taxi delivered her to an ostentatious, flamboyantly decorated building. What looked like a fairground, including a fake roller coaster, was plastered over the outside of the building, depicted in a variety of different colored lights. Her mouth open, her neck stretched, she stared at the happy crowds of noisy guests coming and going from the dazzlingly grandiose entrance.

Counting out the unfamiliar money to the chatty taxi driver gave her a moment of discomfort, but with Rhett’s help she soon paid him his fare, adding a substantial tip. The talkative fellow hadn’t stopped his recital about the highlights of the city since they’d left the airport, but he was a happy chap, and she had been delighted with his informational exuberance.

Rhett wasn’t. Probably due to the stress of the last few days, his attitude had become increasingly more difficult. Carrie had felt ready to pull her hair out by the time they landed.

She slowly made her way inside the casino, her head swiveling like a bobblehead doll, eager to see in every direction at once. The cacophony of sounds stunned her. Liveliness such as she’d never witnessed before abounded, sparking her youthful appreciation for excitement.

“Oh darling, what a wonderful place.”

“It is something else, isn’t it? Looking at it through your eyes and with your reactions has made me see it in a totally new and refreshing way. “

Her driver cheerfully led the way to the reception desk and set her one modest suitcase near her feet.

“Thanks, ma’am. Great gabbing with you. Hope you have a wonderful time here, and don’t forget—call me if you want to be chauffeured around the city. Here’s my card.”

“Thank you for an informative drive, Mr. O’Nalley. I will call you if I have time to see the sights. Take care of your two boys, and tell your wife she’s right lucky to have such a nice husband.”

Carrie found his blush only added to the sweetness of his personality. She wasn’t aware her sincere interest had adjusted his normally disgruntled behaviour or that her friendliness had loosened his reserve and encouraged him to blather on about his personal affairs.

Still under the glow of Mr. O’Nalley’s friendliness, Carrie was unequal to dealing with the snippy girl in reception. It took only a few minutes for Rhett to take over and handle the difficult desk clerk who had at first refused her request for an immediate interview with Ashley Parks. A quick phone call by the chastised girl and Carrie was cleared to see him in fifteen minutes, just enough time for her to freshen up after her long flight.

She slipped into a honey-colored cashmere dress that emphasized her beauty and draped her figure, showing off her stunning, long-legged build. A string of pearls, secreted in her makeup case by her grandmother, adorned the front of the garment and further softened the tone. From the restored hairdo of twisted gold encircling her head to the suede pumps on her feet, a perfect match to the color of her dress, she looked warm and golden.

Standing in front of the mirror, she heard Rhett whistle in her mind and she giggled.

“You look too damn good for my little brother.”

“Why, thank you, kind sir.” She curtsied. “I guess I can’t put it off any longer. Best to get it over with. I only hope he doesn’t call Security and have me booted out of the hotel.”

She expected a difficult meeting awaited her and would have preferred to put it off until morning. But Rhett would have none of that.

“I couldn’t bear the wait. Our priorities are clear—get Ashley on board and get me back to England where that damn bench awaits. The sooner we get started, the sooner I can relax.”

“Yes, please do. Relax, I mean. Your nerves are tearing my insides apart. But you’re right. We shouldn’t put it off.”

Soon, Carrie stood in front of Ashley’s closed door. Nervously, she rethought and practiced the words she would use to convince the man of the impossible. “What if he doesn’t believe us, Rhett?”

“He will, don’t worry. Go right in.”

She ignored his direction and knocked. The man who opened the door to her was a smaller version of his older brother. The similarity astonished her.

“You must be Carrie Temple. Please, come in. My name is Ashley Parks.”

The front desk had obviously warned him she would be arriving. He was prepared with his welcome. She instantly liked his eyes, which sparkled with a love of life. His good humor was revealed by the many laugh lines of his face, and she felt like he was an old friend from the get-go. His mouth smiled with kindness, and his soft handshake held Carrie’s longer than strictly necessary or appropriate.

“Yes, I’m Carrie Temple. Thank you for seeing me at such short notice, Mr. Parks.”

“My pleasure. Please. This way.” He stepped back from the door and invitingly held it open with one hand while waving her towards a pair of comfy-looking, plush red sofas with the other. The sofas faced each other and were straddled on either end by square oriental tables of carved wood. On the farthest wall, overwhelming the room with its reflections, hung a huge, round, beveled mirror, ornately framed in gold.

A black lacquered chest sat under the mirror and the intricately painted Chinese dragons arrayed on the front were eye-catching. Arranged on the top of the chest was a Chinese vase full of red flowers, fresh and exotically tall. Their strange scent filled the room and mixed pleasantly with the smell of cigarette smoke wafting up from an ashtray on the table nearest Carrie.

“Can I get you a glass of wine?” Ashley asked her politely.

“Yes, please. White, if you have any.” Carrie unconsciously caressed the sofa’s lushness, even as she was biting off all her freshly applied lipstick.

Ashley walked over to a large liquor tray on wheels and poured wine into two long-stemmed crystal goblets.

She watched him move smoothly and experienced an instant affection for Rhett’s handsome brother.

“He’s a ladies’ man. Don’t be taken in by his smooth ways. He goes for anything in skirts.” Rhett, in a snit, was once again pushing her buttons.

“Thank you, kind sir. I like being referred to as ‘anything’.”

“Don’t get cute. You know what I mean. Watch his hands and watch him.”

“You’re being cheeky and bloody silly.” Her patience was wearing thin.

She took the opportunity to check out the large and sumptuous working space at the other end of the oversized room. The black lacquered desk was huge, situated in a rounded corner between two floor-to-ceiling open windows. Silky golden drapes and valances framed the breathtaking view of lights from The Strip, Vegas’s main street of casinos. The ivory-colored shaggy carpeting spread so thick and lush her high heels sank into it. It was a man’s room, large and luxurious, and it reminded her of Rhett.

“Yep, Sweetheart, it’s my office.”

“Okay, Miss Temple, what can I do for you?” Ashley passed her glass over, his fingers brushing hers. “I know you were the last person to see my brother before his breakdown, and for that reason I’ve made the time to speak with you, but I’m remarkably busy. Please tell me why you’re so all fired up to talk with me. I have to admit your message of urgency intrigued me.”

“I appreciate your seeing me. I’m afraid I have rather disturbing news, but Dr. Andrews assured me we would need your help.”

“Dr. Andrews? The bumbling idiot who was the so-called expert your English doctors referred me to? He rambled on like an old fool about rosebushes and time travel and some such nonsense. Let me tell you, I couldn’t get Rhett away from that quack fast enough. Silly old…”

Interrupting Ashley, and for the first time out loud in front of another person, Carrie called on her intimate guest for help.

“Rhett, talk to your brother. I’m off.”

The young man’s body stiffened.

“Ashley, you will listen to me and do not interrupt. Dr. Andrews is not a quack. He is completely correct in what he told you. Don’t look at Carrie that way. I’m speaking, using her voice, but these are my words. Ashley, sit down, you knucklehead, before you fall down.”

Ashley had risen at the change in Carrie’s tone of voice and mannerisms. His face whitened. His mouth moved, but no sounds came out. The glass clutched in his hand tipped and allowed a sudden splash of wine to fall.

“Are you paying attention?” Carrie’s speech deepened further and took on his brother’s exact accent.

At the barked question, Ashley fell over the black leather hassock directly behind him and rolled to the floor. The glass disappeared with him. He scurried, crawling, as far away from the strange woman as possible. He was completely spooked.

“Get over here, you silly fool.” Disgust for the young man’s behaviour became evident. “Settle down and listen. I have no time for this nonsense. I want you to take my body back to Dr. Andrews as soon as it can be arranged. He knows exactly how to undo this mess that Carrie got us into.”

Her voice changed back to her own lovely sound except that it was higher and slightly squeaky.

“Me? Well, I like that. You’re the silly sod who picked up my rose and got yourself pricked. I didn’t force you.” Carrie’s niceness level had been breached. She slapped her hands on her knees and shot to her feet. She stomped three paces, then realized Ashley was scuttling away from her. His eyes were wild and huge. She made herself take a deep breath. Rhett, in the meantime, knowing he’d pushed her too far, took the wisest course. He faded.

“Ashley, your brother is the most aggravating imbecile I have ever had the misfortune to share my body with.”

“You mean there have been others?” Ashley’s face turned paler if that was possible. “I think you’d better leave. You obviously have a problem. I don’t know what you want from me, but I don’t believe I can help you.” He slowly rose to his feet but made sure a good distance separated them.

“Ashley, take out your wallet. Please, just do it. I promise, I won’t touch it. Trust me, I don’t want your money.”

The stunned man did as she asked. He looked at her questioningly.

Carrie ascertained the wallet to be the exact replica of the one Rhett owned.

“When Rhett had this wallet made for you, he designed a secret compartment under the inside flap as a place to conceal extra money. His wallet is the same.”

Ashley sat down, stunned. “How did you know about our wallets?”

“Rhett told me. Didn’t you wonder why there was no money hidden under the flap in his wallet? He coerced me to remove it. Said we’d have need of it, and we did. We used it to come to you for help.”

“Carrie, my love, you’re a genius. We’ve got him.”

Ashley rubbed his stomach as he got slowly to his feet. Carrie sympathized with his actions. She knew the feeling well. Since Rhett had moved in, stomach pains were a daily occurrence.

“I need a drink, a double.” Ashley headed toward the bar, stopped and turned. “Join me?”

“No, I’m fine.” At that moment, Rhett rejoined the fray and demanded, “I’ll have a whiskey, my special brand, and make mine a double, also.”

“What is your special brand?” Ashley whirled around, his finger pointed demandingly at Carrie. His eyes were narrowed, one eyebrow higher than the other.

She smiled sympathetically as Rhett hollered, “For God’s sake! It’s Crown Royal, same as always. As if you didn’t know. Stop being such a disbelieving pain in the ass.”