Love Comes Calling (26 page)

A
nd don't forget.” Father was watching me from his position at the head of the table as he poured some cream into his tea the next morning.

“ . . . forget what?” After spending a sleepless night trying to figure out how to keep Griff from attending the hospital opening, I'd already drunk two cups of tea, though it didn't seem to be helping me to wake up.

“Your mother wanted to go to the heart wing opening today, down at the hospital. She thought we could all go over together after the ceremony. That way the crowds won't be as pressing, and we can actually go inside to tour it.”

“After?”

“It seems like a good idea.”

“I can't go after.” After would be too late. Griff might already be murdered by then! “I think—is it all right if I go with the Phillipses so I can be there for the ceremony?”

He blinked. Frowned. “I suppose. Did they ask you?”

They would. And if they didn't, I'd ask them to ask me.

But I couldn't wait for an invitation. If I didn't have one by the time they left this morning, I might as well just dig my black dress out of the back of my closet and plan on attending Griff's funeral. I watched the front walk through the parlor window that morning, and when Griff stepped out, I ran to meet him.

“My mother and father aren't coming to the hospital until after the ceremony, and I would rather see the whole thing.”

“Great.” He started walking toward the car that waited for him at the curb.

“I mean—I was kind of hoping—”

“I'm glad you'll be there.”

“But the thing is, I'd like to be there for the whole thing. The ceremony and everything. But you know how my mother is, and she doesn't think it's proper, and I think, actually, she's kind of sad about your mother dying.” That thought had just occurred to me as I said the words. She
was
sad, wasn't she? Griff's mother had been her closest friend, and they'd lived right here next to each other for lots of years, and now Mrs. Phillips was dead. Not that she'd died recently. It had been a while. Quite a few years. Six of them. But she was still . . . she was sad. My mother, that is. Because Mrs. Phillips was dead. And that made
me
sad. And Griff was sad too. It was all just so
sad
!

“Ellis? I have to go.” He nodded toward the car. “My father's already there.”

“So . . . can I go with you? To the ceremony? If it wouldn't be too much of a bother?”

He was frowning. “We're supposed to be there early. You wouldn't want to wait around for the ceremony.”

Would I ever!

“I'll just see you afterward.”

“No!” That wasn't going to work at all. “Please. Please let me go with you. I promise I won't get in the way.”

“I guess . . .”

“It's decided, then? Yes?”

He sighed. “Fine. But we really have to go now.”

I stretched up to give him a hug. And then I kissed him right on the cheek. “Perfect. You'll be glad you said yes. I promise.”

“Didn't you promise I'd be glad I said yes to your coming early with us?” Griff bent to help me pick up a tray of tiny tea sandwiches I'd knocked off the refreshments table. And then he handed me a fistful of napkins that had tumbled to the ground.

“Yes. That's what I said. And you will be glad you said yes.” I put a finger to my mouth and licked off some of the cream-cheese filling. Mmm! I was glad he'd said yes too.

“Do you mind telling me
when
I'll be glad I said yes?”

“Soon.” Right after I stopped him from being murdered.

“Because I wasn't very glad when you stumbled into the chairman of the board. And now there's this.”

“I'm sorry. I'll just—” I put the last of the sandwiches back on the tray after I brushed some dirt off it. “I'm going to sit down right here, and I'll save seats for you.” I walked up a few rows to the front and sat in one of the chairs that had been set up for the occasion. “And I promise I won't move.”

“Just—don't promise anything. You aren't very good at it.” He scowled and went off in the direction of his father.

That wasn't fair. I thought I was rather good at promises; I made quite a few of them. Like paying back the girls in the dormitory. And working for Janie. And looking after my nephews. I made promises all the time. I suppose, to be truthful, I didn't always
keep
them, but on the whole, I considered I was getting better at it than I used to be. Keeping that in mind, I did sit there and didn't move. Except for my feet. I practiced a new step I'd seen at the Yacht Club. One-two-three-
four
. One-two-three-
four
.

The seats in front of the stage began filling up around me, and a crowd began to mill in the open area behind us. But the hum of conversation ruined my rhythm. I stood up and looked around to see if I could find that man from the speakeasy, but I couldn't really see very well, so I stood atop my chair.

That was better.

I still didn't see him, but as I was standing there, everyone began to look at me and that was even better. I could see everyone's face now. He wasn't there, but there were more people still waiting to come in and sit down.

I glanced at my wristwatch, or meant to, but it wasn't there so I climbed down and asked the woman who was sitting behind me for the time.

“It's nearly ten o'clock.”

It would start soon, then.

But . . . what if that man wasn't here when the ceremony started? What if . . . what if he came afterward? I might never see him until it was too late! So maybe I ought to sit in the back instead—or even stand with the rest of the crowd.

I got up, but then I remembered my promise.

I'd promised I wouldn't move.

But that didn't really matter, did it?

I sat down. Maybe it did. I'd promised, and I'd really meant it. But I'd forgotten about looking for that man. And Griff might be annoyed with me now, but he'd be really mad if he ended up dead. So maybe I
should
move.

I got up.

But Griff and his father came, sitting down beside me.

I leaned toward him. “I was going to—”

The mayor stepped up onto the platform.

Too late!

As he talked about Mrs. Phillips and the new heart wing, I kept an eye on the audience, swiveling back and forth in my seat.

Griff poked me with his elbow. “Knock it off.”

“Sorry, I just—”

There was a burst of applause.

The mayor smiled and held out a hand, palm up, toward Griffin and his father. They both rose and walked toward the platform.

Where was that speakeasy man? Was I too late? Was Griff going to be murdered before I could do anything to stop it?

A
s Griff stepped up to the podium, I saw that man from the speakeasy slink around the edge of the crowd as he neared the platform. So that was one of the men, but where was the other? And what should I do about them?

Up to the left of the platform, one of the bystanders took the gum from his mouth and stuck it behind his ear just the same way Doris did whenever she started work at the switchboard.

The speakeasy man was getting closer now.

And there! On the other side of the courtyard, Officer Jack Feeney was edging along the crowd toward the platform from the other direction.

I half rose from my seat.

Over alongside the side of the platform, the chewing-gum man was staring over at Jack.

Gum!

Doris only put her gum behind her ear when she was getting ready to work. No one here was working. Or they weren't
supposed
to be working. They were just listening to speeches.
The only people working were the people intent on murdering Griff.

The speakeasy man. The chewing-gum man. And . . . my gaze crept over toward Jack.

He glanced at me and then looked away.

My hand flew to my mouth. He wasn't just some impartial observer. In spite of what he'd said, he was still
in on this
!

The man from the speakeasy put a foot to the back of the platform, reached a hand inside his coveralls, and began to pull something from it.

I couldn't wait any longer, and there was no way to be discreet about stopping the man, so I got to my feet, leaped onto the platform, and stood spread-eagle between Griff and the man. “Don't shoot!” I screwed my eyes shut, just in case he did.

But . . . there was no gunshot. In fact . . . I opened one eye . . . nobody had even moved.

Griff put a hand to my arm and bent to whisper into my ear. “Ellis? What are you doing?”

I pointed to the speakeasy man. “He was going to try and shoot you.”

“He what?”

“With a gun! He has a gun in his pocket!”

Somewhere out in the crowd, someone screamed, and then everyone tried to leave at once.

The man turned around and jumped from the stage, trying to join the mad rush from the courtyard.

Griff took a running leap and landed right on top of him, knocking him to the ground.

They wrestled for a moment, and then Griff prevailed,
ripping the object from the man's hand. He took the man by the collar, yanked him to standing, and then proudly held his prize aloft as if he'd just scored another touchdown.

Only it wasn't a gun.

It was a . . . What was it exactly?

Cameras clicked and flashes popped as reporters who had been covering the ribbon-cutting turned their attentions to the man instead.

“It's a crowbar.” I jumped at Jack's voice in my ear.

“A . . .
crowbar
?”

“Officer?” Griff marched the man over toward us as Jack pulled a pair of handcuffs from his pocket. Another policeman had joined us by then. He took the cuffs from Jack and the man from Griff as Mr. Phillips approached, scowling. “What is the meaning of this!”

I knew what the meaning was. I knew exactly what it was. “That man was trying to murder Griff! And that man—” I pointed out the chewing-gum man—“was in on it!”

Everyone's gaze swung in the chewing-gum man's direction. He tried to make a break for it, but Griff's father stuck out a foot and tripped him.

Jack laid a hand on my arm, but I brushed it off. It was time for the truth to be told. “Tell them!”

He gave me a long look before he stepped forward to answer. “No one was trying to murder your son, Mr. Phillips.” He turned to look at me. “This is a ribbon-cutting ceremony, not some movie.” He dropped his gaze. “It seems there was a plan to try to . . .” He cleared his throat. “Disable him.”

“
Disable
 . . . ?” Mr. Phillips said the word as if he'd never heard it before.

Dis-
what
?

“These men work for a local bookie.” Jack shrugged. “Gambling on college football is big business.”

“And how does my son fit into all of that?”

Jack held up the crowbar. “It seems your son had been approached this spring about throwing a game or two in the fall.”

“But I told them I wouldn't!”

Jack clapped Griff on the back. “And he told them he wouldn't. The thought was if his leg were broken and he couldn't play next season, then maybe Harvard wouldn't be such a hard team to beat. And maybe some of the other football players would think twice before turning down an offer.”

“They wanted to break my son's leg?” Mr. Phillips was staring at the crowbar in horror.

Jack shrugged. “At least they were planning to do it at a hospital. I don't think they meant to hurt him much. Just . . . put him out of the picture for a while.”

The mayor stepped up and started clapping Griff on the back, congratulating him for catching a crook.

I'd heard everything Jack had said, but I still didn't understand what was going on. When was he going to talk about the murder?

Jack broke into the conversation. “Would you excuse me for a moment? I'd like to speak with Miss
Eton
. Alone.” He didn't wait for anyone to say yes or no. He simply took me by the elbow and marched me over toward the edge of the platform. There, he leveled a stern look at me. “At any point in time, were you ever planning to tell me you're actually Ellis Eton?”

I shook my head.

“
Is
there a Janie Winslow?”

I nodded.

“Does she live on Beacon Hill?”

“No. Although . . . she used to. For a while, with her mother who was our cook, but then she got a job down at the telephone company, only when her mother died—”

He held up a hand. “Never mind. It's not important.”

“Was this . . . this whole plan . . . Was it about breaking Griff's leg?”

He glanced over in Griff's direction. “Sure. Why? What did you think it was about?”

“I thought . . . I mean . . . you weren't worried about his job, then? Or the mayor? This was all about
football
?”

He glanced beyond me toward the Phillipses and then his gaze came back. “Yes.”

“Football?!”

“Shh. Don't say it so loud.”

“So there was . . . there was no murder planned?”

“Who ever said there was a murder?”

“You did.”

“I never said that. I'd never get involved in anything like that. What kind of man do you think I am?”

Well . . . that was the question, wasn't it? He seemed to be better than I'd thought he was, but just a little bit worse than he ought to be, considering he was a policeman. “You're sure there's no murder.”

“Murder!” He gave a snort. “No.”

“But . . . what about you? Why were
you
here, then?” Before he could answer, I figured it out. “You were trying to stop them!”

His gaze slipped from mine. “Maybe.”

“But . . . I thought you were part of it.”

He frowned. “I was in the beginning. But . . . I had a change of heart. That's all.”

A change of heart.

“Maybe . . . some of the things you said . . . about laws and people . . . maybe some of them changed my mind about some things.”

“Are you telling me you've decided to become one of the good guys?”

He straightened. “Maybe. Mostly, I'm thinking it's time to move on. Do something else for a while.” He looked down and gave me a wink. “So maybe I'll see you in Hollywood after all.”

Hollywood. I laid my hand on his arm. “To tell you the truth, I'm not going.”

“Not going? After all those things you said? And all those dreams you had?”

I looked beyond him toward Griff. Toward the man with strong convictions and a faithful, steady heart. I felt my mouth lift in a smile, and when I spoke it was in mimic of Jack. “Let's just say I had a change of heart. That's all.”

He followed my gaze. “You could do worse. That kid's all right.”

As we spoke, the speakeasy man was walked off through the courtyard by the other policeman. “What's going to happen to him?”

He sighed. “It's like this: The whole thing was supposed to send a message, out in the open in front of everyone. King wanted all these bluebloods to know he won't take no for
an answer. Not even from them. So doing something to that prince here, where you'd think he would be safe . . .”

“What are you saying? What's going to happen to those men?”

“That's where I was supposed to come in. I was supposed to frog-march them out of this place and into the patrol car and then . . .” He shrugged.

“Then?”

“Then . . . let them go.”

“Let them go! Just like that?”

“Except I got a different officer to help me, and he'll make sure they actually get to the jail.”

I didn't like the way Jack kept avoiding my eyes. “And after that?”

“ . . . they'll probably be out in a couple days.”

A couple days! After trying to break someone's leg? “But what about Griff? Won't they just try again?”

“Naw. That's why I told Mr. Phillips about the plan and made sure everybody heard me do it. They'll find someone else's leg to break now. So don't worry about it.”

My jaw must have dropped open, because he laughed. And then he kissed me on the cheek. “Been good knowing you, baby.”

“Ellis?”

I whirled from Jack to find Griff standing before us, a puzzled frown on his face. He was looking between Jack and me. “You know this man?”

I looked up at Jack. “He's a friend of mine.”

Griff stuck out his hand. “Griffin Phillips. Nice to meet you.”

Jack shook it. “Same here.” He put a finger to his hat, then winked at me. “I have to be going now. So long.”

As Jack walked away, Griff took my hand in his. “Ellis, I really need to talk to you. I've been trying for a while, but something always seems to get in the way. I figure now is as good a time as any.” His free hand dove into his pocket.

I felt the tips of my ears flush, and my heart thrummed in my ears. “Yes?”

“Ellis, would you—”

“Oh, Ellis!” My mother severed our connection, taking me by the shoulders and shaking me, and then she gathered me into her arms with a sob. “We came early, we decided to be at the ceremony after all, but what were you thinking?!”

“I didn't really—”

“How do you get yourself mixed up in these things?”

“I don't really—”

“There's been quite enough drama this summer. Now. I want you to come back with us and sit down so the ceremony can continue.”

Half the attendees had already fled the courtyard, and it didn't appear as if they were coming back. If I'd just stayed in my seat like I'd promised, Jack would have stopped the man with the crowbar, Mrs. Phillips would have had her wing dedicated by now, and Griff would have already cut the ribbon. I'd messed everything up—again.

“Ellis?” My mother reached toward me, but I'd already stepped beyond her grasp. “Where are you going?”

“I think I'll just go sit in the car.”