Blind Dates Can Be Murder (25 page)

“Pah! She’ll come around. She’s simply gun-shy from that fiasco last fall.”

“Actually, I plan to talk with her about our future very soon. I’m sure things will work out in the end.”

Mrs. Bosworth set down her teacup and stared out of the window. In the distance, Danny could see Jo walking across the lawn toward the dog run.

“She’s going to be very rich someday,” Mrs. Bosworth said softly. “If I may be so blunt, what are your prospects?”

Danny was startled, but he remembered what Jo said about not being disingenuous. He shook his head, knowing that in this woman’s book, his prospects wouldn’t look very promising at all.

“Well, I own my car outright and I’m a few years into a small mortgage. Otherwise, I believe I have about two hundred dollars in my checking account and a thousand dollars in my savings account. No CDs, no IRAs, and no full-time job.”

“Well,” she replied, a half smile on her face. “May I say that forthrightness is certainly one of your most salient qualities.”

“Mrs. Bosworth, to be completely honest, I am what you might call a starving artist. I’m not a big success yet, but one day I will be. Right now, the only thing I have in the way of prospects are a lot of talent, a good education, and the persistence to see my dream through to fruition.”

“And in what artistic field do you endeavor to succeed?”

“I’m a photographer. I do a lot of portrait work to pay the bills, but my specialty is landscapes and candid life scenes. I want to work for one of the big magazines,
Scene It
or
National Geographic.
”

“Ah,” she said, leaning back in her chair. “Photography is a very competitive field, and none too realistic. You might as well be sitting here telling me you want to be an actor or a rock star.”

For once, Danny wished that he had chosen a more conventional path in life. He wanted this woman to like him and to know that he would provide a good life for her granddaughter.

“Well, I have had some success,” he told her. “Twentieth Century Fox is optioning one of my photos for a movie poster.”

That seemed to strike her as both impressive and interesting.

“Really?” she said, leaning slightly forward. “So you do have some talent, then.”

“Yes, ma’am. I do.”

Their eyes met and held for a moment, almost as if there were some sort of challenge in the air. Then she sat back, reached to the table beside her, and pulled a business card from a small crystal tray. He took it from her and read the print, which had her name and contact information under the heading “Bosworth Industries.”

“
Scene It
is a subsidiary of Bosworth Industries,” she said. “I could have your portfolio looked at, or whatever it is you photographer people prepare to get a job.”

Danny slipped the card in his pocket, speechless.

“Do you have a card as well, young man?”

Feeling like an idiot, Danny fumbled for his wallet, pulled out a card, and handed it to her.

“Good. I’ll have my secretary call you next week to give you the name and address of the person you want. I’ll put in a good word for you.”

“Mrs. Bosworth, I don’t know what to say. Thank you. But I don’t want any nepotism.”

“Ha!” she barked, throwing her head back. “If you think I’m doing you any favors, you don’t know me very well. You said a big movie studio bought one of your photos. That tells me there’s a potential to make money from your work. That’s what interests me.”

“Money,” Danny repeated. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’ll get your work seen at
Scene It
, that’s all. If it’s outstanding, I’m sure they’ll give you a call. If it’s not, well then, no harm done.”

“Thank you.”

He sat again. Outside, Jo was just coming back toward the house. With the sun hitting her blond hair, she looked simply luminous.

“It’s not just about prospects, you know,” he said.

“No?”

“No, ma’am. It’s also about the fact that I love your granddaughter. I respect her, I’m good to her, and I want to take care of her for the rest of her life.”

Mrs. Bosworth studied him even more closely now, as if she were sizing him up.

“I like you, Danny,” she said finally. “But spare me the gushy love stuff. I’m all about facts and numbers, son. Anything else is just icing on the cake.”

Jo felt bad for leaving Danny alone with her grandmother, but she simply had to get some air. Coming there sometimes brought out the worst in her. Just once, Jo would have liked to see her grandmother toss all caution to the wind, let her hair down, and simply be real. Instead, she was always so stiff and proper, only coming to life over business. As soon as business talk ended, the old woman closed up again.

By the time she got back to the room, Jo was ready to leave. Fortunately, her grandmother suggested they get on with the paperwork that Jo had come there to do.

“I tire so easily these days,” Mrs. Bosworth said. “I hope you’re not disappointed if we cut this meeting a bit short.”

“Whatever you need to do, Grandmother, is fine with me.”

They rolled her grandmother’s chair to the dining table, where Jo’s proxy papers were all laid out. Jo signed where she needed to sign, and when they were finished she wasn’t surprised that her grandmother asked how the household hints business was going. She always at least made a show of caring.

“Very well, thanks,” Jo said. “I had a bit of a dip last fall, so we did some restructuring. I set up a website and tightened up the newspaper column and tried to update my focus. In the last six months, I’ve gone from twenty-three newspapers to forty-nine. When we hit fifty, my agent’s going to try again for syndication.”

“That sounds wonderful, dear. Good for you.”

Good for you
. For once, she actually sounded as though she meant it.

“Thank you, Grandmother.”

“Oh, and one more thing, dear. Rumor has it that your ex-fiancé is in a spot of trouble. If he tries contacting you again, you might agree to speak with him.”

“Bradford? What kind of trouble?”

“I’m sure I don’t know. I’ve only heard…well…that he’s eager to speak with you, but that you refuse his calls.”

Jo couldn’t believe what she was hearing. The nerve of that man!

“He asked me to meet with him last fall, about a week after he ran out of our wedding,” Jo said, trying not to take her anger out on her grandmother. “I showed up when and where he wanted, but he never came. Why should I give him the time of day after that?”

“I don’t know, darling. I’m just passing along what I’ve heard.”

Jo clenched her fists in frustration. The handsome, successful, and well-connected Bradford had received the family’s stamp of approval from day one, and despite the fact that he had abandoned her at the altar, they still thought of him fondly.

“Whatever you’ve heard, Grandmother,” Jo said sharply, “I’d thank you kindly to keep to yourself.”

Jo headed for the door, eager to go but knowing she shouldn’t walk out on that note. Who knew how long it would be before she would see her grandmother again? She forced herself to calm down, turn around, and speak in a gentler tone.

“I’m sorry,” Jo said, coming back into the room. “I’m taking my frustration with him out on you.”

“Don’t give it another thought,” her grandmother replied graciously. “I understand.”

The moment smoothed over, Jo and Danny said their goodbyes. As they were leaving, Jo paused in the doorway of the dining room.

“Grandmother, if I can be so bold,” Jo said.

“Yes?”

“Your silver candlesticks. They’re looking dull.”

“I’ve noticed that. The wax builds up on them, I think.”

“Tell your maid to use a blow-dryer,” Jo said. “Once the wax is warmed up, she can easily wipe it off.”

“Well. Thank you, Jo. How clever. I’m sure she never would have thought of that.”

Jo nodded, something in her feeling quite validated.

“You’re welcome,” she said. She came back across the room, kissed her grandmother’s cheek, and then made her way outside.

“That’s it,” Tank said. “Let’s go.”

“I’m almost done,” Lettie replied, straightening the final drawer and sliding it shut. Though she hadn’t been able to hide their activities completely, no blatant signs of their home invasion remained. Maybe if Jo were particularly distracted, she would never catch on.

Walking to the car, Lettie was grateful that the landscaping was mature enough to hide them from view on three sides. Nevertheless, they moved quickly, and they managed to get away without anyone questioning them.

Lettie’s hands were still shaking, though, by the time she delivered Tank back to his car at the church.

“This is it for you, right?” she said. “You’re done here in town?”

“I dunno. I have to ask Mickey.”

“Is he gonna be mad you didn’t find anything?”

“Of course he’s gonna be mad,” Tank said. “This Jo Tulip girl has something that belongs to him. And he wants it back, no matter what it takes.”

14

T
he hike was exactly what Jo needed to clear her head. After an hour with her grandmother, she was ready to walk off some steam—and this was an easy trail for going fast.

Chewie bounded on ahead along the wide, gravel walkway as Jo and Danny went side by side. They passed one family—a father and three daughters on bicycles—coming in the opposite direction. Otherwise they seemed to have the place to themselves.

“I actually like your grandmother,” Danny was saying as they walked. “I mean, I can see why she gets to you, but it could be worse. At least she has a good sense of humor.”

Jo wished it were that simple. There was something missing in her grandmother, some essential bit of love or compassion or humanity, that normal people ought to have. Jo began to tell Danny a story about a time when she was just seven years old and her grandfather called to tell her that her favorite horse had to be put down. Because the animal had a chronic, debilitating condition and not an injury, Jo had begged her grandfather to wait until the weekend so that her mother could drive her down from New York City first and she could tell the horse goodbye.

That weekend Jo rode bravely to her grandparents’ farm, ready to spend some time in the stable with Whisper before the vet came to take him away. Once they got there, however, Whisper was already gone. Her grandfather apologized, saying that Grandmother had insisted it be done that morning. Jo grew hysterical and began screaming at the house from the middle of the front lawn. Her grandmother had come out on the veranda and simply stared down at the child who was throwing such a fit.

“I just wanted to tell him goodbye!” Jo cried. “Why couldn’t you let me say goodbye?”

Her grandmother had stared hard, raised her chin, and answered defiantly, “Well, you might as well learn it early in life, Jo. Never love anything or anyone so much that it breaks your heart to part with it.”

Danny turned to Jo, eyes wide.

“She actually said that to you?”

“Verbatim,” Jo replied. “I remember it as though it were yesterday.”

“Incredible,” he whispered.

They walked in silence, but after a few minutes he reached out and took Jo’s hand and entwined his fingers with hers.