Hideaway Cove (A Windfall Island Novel) (24 page)

M
aggie wore a column of black that skimmed her long, slim body. Jessi wore a gown draped Grecian style to flatter her petite curves, its deep red color teasing out the auburn highlights in her hair.

“We look pretty damn good,” Jessi said, surveying their reflections in the full-length mirror in one of the suite’s bathrooms.

Paige, wearing slim jeans, heeled boots and a cashmere sweater, her blond hair in a cool twist, stepped between them.“You both look gorgeous. As good as any of the idle rich you’re about to rub elbows with.”

“I wish you could come with us.”

Paige gave Jessi’s waist a little squeeze. “You know I can’t. It’s one of the biggest charity events of the year. There’ll be reporters and photographers there, and not just any reporters. These will be society and entertainment reporters. Even if I wanted them to find me, it would take the spotlight off the charity.”

“You don’t have any reason to hide yourself away,” Maggie grumbled.

“Well. Color me surprised.”

“You’ve made a bad decision now and then,” Maggie said, “but you wouldn’t sleep your way to the top. Your ego wouldn’t allow it.”

“Now I’m speechless.”

“Funny, your lips are moving and words are coming out.”

Laughing, Paige threw her arms around Maggie, hanging on like a burr when Maggie tried to shove her off.

Jessi felt like the whole world was brighter now. “It’s about time the two of you made up.”

Maggie snorted. “I’m still watching you around Dex.”

Paige laughed again. “You two are going to own that ballroom. Every woman is going to be jealous, because every man will be falling over themselves to meet you.”

Maggie opened the ridiculously small jeweled bag Paige had insisted she needed, with the lipstick and tissues Paige had put into it. “I’m engaged, but I think you should go for it, Jess.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Well, then, I guess that leaves Hold free for the taking,” Paige said.

Jessi shrugged. “Be my guest. He’s made no commitment to me.”

“Jess”—Paige met her gaze in the mirror—“you know I was only kidding.”

“I wasn’t. We’re not in a relationship, Paige. We’re just…having fun.”

“You don’t seem to be enjoying yourself very much.”

“Of course I am. It’s just a matter of curbing my expectations.”

Paige exchanged a look with Maggie. “That’s so…not like you, Jessi.”

Jessi opened her tiny clutch, much as Maggie had done, but she paid no attention to the contents. “It’s the new and improved me.”

“New maybe,” Maggie said. “I’m not sure improved is accurate. Hold has a lot to answer for.”

“I’m responsible for my own feelings.”

“Maybe that’s true,” Maggie shot back, “but how about Benji?”

“He’ll be fine, too. I’ll make sure of it.”

Maggie started to fire back again, but Paige gave her a little nudge that shut her up. “Go break some hearts,” she said, adding, “Once you’ve worked your way through the big shots downstairs, Jess, one lowly genealogist will be no match for you.”

They made their way from the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the public area of the hotel suite, where Dex waited for them.

“Hello,” he said, giving Maggie a long, appreciative once-over before kissing her carefully.

She grabbed him by the lapels and planted a kiss on his lips, one that went deep and hot, and made Jessi just a little uncomfortable. “Now that was a hello,” she said when she came up for air.

“I didn’t want to muss you,” Dex said, “but I am going to dance with you later.”

“It’s a date,” Maggie said.

“Great,” Paige said, herding them toward the door. “Go have it somewhere else.”

“Not so fast,” Dex said. “Let’s go over it one more time.”

“Do we have to?” Maggie said with a sigh.

“Nope, we can call this whole thing off. I’m still not convinced it’s a good idea to let either one of you go into a crowded ballroom with the possibility that someone there wants you dead.”

Maggie rolled her eyes, and while Jessi understood her annoyance, she wanted this to be over. If reassuring Dex that they were on their guard got her closer to ensuring Benji’s safety, and her own, then she’d reassure him.

“There are two pillars of the Stanhope family,” she began. “Clayton and Rose. Clayton runs the businesses; Eugenia would have been his aunt. He’s divorced, has a son and daughter.

“The daughter is married to an English baron. He took her generous inheritance and built it into an egg big enough to feather every nest in Europe. They have one son, who’s following in Daddy’s financially astute footsteps.”

“They don’t come to the states often,” Dex added, “and from what Alec told me, their relationship with the rest of the family is cool at best.”

“So we can rule them out?” Jessi asked.

“Not entirely, but I’d put them low on the list.”

“Okay. Uh, Clayton has a son,” Jessi continued. “Clayton the fourth. They call him Chip. Chip is just getting into the family business, entry level. Says he wants to work his way up in the corporation. You have to give him credit for that.”

“It doesn’t mean he wants to give away a third of the family fortune,” Dex pointed out. “He’s shrewd enough to know he’ll garner support and trust by paying his dues, so I’d say part of that is calculation.”

“Then there’s Rose,” Jessi finished. “Eugenia would be her great aunt, so Rose is around our age, Maggie. Rose primarily heads up the charities.”

“Rose, Clayton, Chip,” Maggie said when Dex looked to her. “Got it.”

Jessi nodded. “Wish us luck?”

“You don’t need luck,” Dex said, “not with Maggie and me watching your back.” He tapped a finger to his own ear to indicate the Bluetooth Jessi had hidden beneath her hair. “Just keep the line open, and you’ll be fine.” He kissed Maggie, then Jessi’s cheek, and left the suite.

As agreed, Jessi and Maggie lagged behind.

Jessi pressed a hand to her madly jumping stomach. “Well, here goes,” she said to Paige, once they’d given Dex a head start.

“I’ll be listening, too,” Paige said. “Anything goes wrong and I’ll have the police here in two shakes.”

“We won’t need the cops,” Maggie said. “If Dex doesn’t kick some ass, I will.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jessi said. Even if she felt like she was going to keel over any minute. She filled her lungs, let the air out slowly, then again, until the dizziness passed. “Got any acting tips for me?” she asked Paige as she opened the door to the hallway.

“You have to believe it yourself if you’re going to make other people believe it,” Paige said, then gave her a hug. “Break a leg.”

A uniformed security guard requested their invitations, opening the ballroom door only after he’d checked their names off his list.

It was like walking into a fairyland, Jessi decided. Potted trees strung with twinkling lights stood singly or in little groves around the ballroom. Bowers covered with flowering vines led the way to the dance floor. Tables covered with greenery held platters of food, making it seem like a picnic set in an enchanted forest.

A pair of young women in pale green dresses, tattered in the latest fashion but also vaguely reminiscent of elves, approached them. One held a basket filled with flowers that, as the other dipped in, proved to be circlets woven with trailing ribbons.

Charmed, laughing, Jessi allowed her to place one of them on her head.

Maggie politely but firmly declined. “That thing would make me look like a Maypole,” she said. “You, on the other hand, look like Cinderella, Jess.”

“I feel like Cinderella at the ball. I can’t believe this is for charity; it must have cost a million dollars.”

“Everyone here tonight can afford to give that much and more, so Dex says.”

“You and I will have to settle for solving Eugenia’s mystery and parting the Stanhopes of their money. Have you seen any of them?” Jessi lifted to her toes, but she couldn’t see anything.

“Clayton the third is over by the bar,” Dex said into the Bluetooth earpiece Jessi wore.

Since showing his face would probably send the Stanhopes running for the exits, Dex had finagled himself a place in the security room to watch the monitors. Jessi would be the one talking to Clayton, so she was wired.

“The bar,” Jessi said.

Maggie started to plow her way through the press of people. Jessi fell in behind her until the crowd thinned enough for her to walk beside Maggie. As they neared the bar, Jessi saw a tall, distinguished man, in his late sixties but still handsome and fit. His eyes, she discovered when he glanced their way, were the same bright blue as Maggie’s.

Before Jessi could approach him, a taller, slimmer young man joined Clayton. The resemblance was unmistakable.

Maggie took her elbow and pulled her into a nearby arbor. “Must be Clayton,” she murmured.

“And his son, Chip. My cousin.”

They both spun around to find a woman around their age, smiling pleasantly. Her honey-colored hair was up in a cool twist; her crystal-embellished dress must have cost a fortune and weighed a ton. Everything about her screamed “quality.” Pretty, Jessi thought, or rather she’d be termed lovely in her social circles with her flawless skin, delicate features, and…

“Jesus, Maggie, look at her eyes.”

“I see them.”

“Every morning when you look in the mirror.”

Maggie’s mouth thinned. “It’s already been established. I’m not a Stanhope.”

“No,” Rose said to Maggie. “You’re not a Stanhope, but your eyes—well, they could tell a different story. You,” she said, turning to Jessi, “don’t bear any resemblance whatsoever to my family.”

“That doesn’t really mean anything, does it?” Jessi said. “I mean, I could look like whoever Eugenia married. If she survived.”

“You’re an awfully cool customer, Jessi,” Rose said. “Do you mind if I call you Jessi?”

“No, Rose, I don’t mind.”

“And you’d be Maggie Solomon.” Rose held out her hand, waited until Maggie took it, then offered it to Jessi.

Jessi shook politely, but she wasn’t any less wary than Maggie.

“Relax,” Rose said, “I’m on your side.”

“Easy to say.”

“It
is
an easy thing to say, Maggie. Can I call you Maggie?”

“No.”

“Don’t be rude, Maggie.”

Maggie whipped around, Jessi a beat behind, and found George Boatwright standing behind them. “What the hell?”

George handed one of the flutes of champagne he held to Rose, offered the other to Maggie. When she refused it and when Jessi shook her head, he downed it in one long swallow.

“Well, well,” Maggie drawled, “the monkey suit looks good on you, George. But champagne? When you begged a ride to Boston, I never would have guessed
she
was the business you had to see to.”

“The monkey suit,” George ran a finger around his tight collar, “is for this shindig. The champagne was because of you.”

Jessi stepped between them. “What are you doing here, George?”

“Shhhh.” He covered the hand Jessi had set on his arm. “I’m here for the same reason you are.”

“How do we know that?” Maggie demanded. “How do you know she’s not lying to you?”

George rounded on Maggie, but Rose laid a hand on his arm, and he pulled himself in with a visible effort.

“It’s a fair question,” Rose put in. “If the three of you don’t smile, it’s going to look like we’re up to something. And let’s remember,” she said pointedly to George, “my uncle and cousin don’t know who you are and we don’t want them wondering. As far as they know we met here, and,” she dimpled, “you’re just another nobody after my fortune.”

“Your fortune,” Maggie sniped, “is the problem.”

George pinned her with a look. “If Rose wanted you dead, Maggie, you’d be dead.”

“No offense, George,” Jessi said, “but why would we take her word for it?”

“Because I’m the one who called George and let him know about Dex Keegan and the search for Eugenia’s descendants.”

Maggie crossed her arms and stared George down. “You’ve known this entire time?”

“You can take George apart later,” Jessi said to her. “Right now we have bigger issues. If Rose is innocent, then—”

“It has to be Uncle Clay or Chip. Or both of them,” Rose said with a sigh. “They won’t stop until they’re sure Aunt Eugenia left no one behind.”

“Arrest Clay,” Maggie said to George.

“For what? Having an intense conversation with his son? Even if I had jurisdiction here, there’s no proof.”

“We’ll get proof,” Jessi said.

“Great. It’ll be your word against one of Boston’s leading citizens. Who do you think the Boston cops will believe? And even if they did lock Clayton up, what makes you think he can’t get to anyone he wants from a jail cell?”

“He’s right,” Dex said in Jessi’s ear.

“Dex says George is right,” and when Maggie swung around to glare at her, Jessi took the Bluetooth from her ear and handed it to Maggie, who, after a brief struggle, stuck it in her own ear.

She listened, and while her expression stayed mutinous, her body language didn’t.

“So you’re on our side,” she said to Rose.

“I know it’s hard to believe, but yes, I am. My great grandmother…We were very close. She died when I was a child, but she used to sit with me in the nursery, my mother said. And when I got a little older, she took a special interest in me. You see, I was the first girl born into the family after…”

“After Eugenia,” Jessi finished when Rose’s voice broke.

George shifted over to stand beside Rose. A blind man could have seen the care and longing his face, and the way Rose took comfort from his nearness. They might not be lovers yet, but there was a deep connection, Jessi thought.

Maggie wasn’t as quick to accept this new development. “How do we know Rose isn’t playing us—all of us,” she qualified.

“Because we trust George,” Jessi said instantly, and not just because of her automatic need to defend a friend. There were no shades of gray for George, only black and white. Even where his feelings were concerned, he’d think through every angle, every possible repercussion, before he took a step.