Paradise County (10 page)

“Not many people knew it, but my father was a recovering alcoholic. He’d been on the wagon for years. At least ten years, without so much as a glass of wine. He was so proud of that.” Her voice faltered. She gritted her teeth, and her chin came up. “I refuse to accept that he was drinking the night he died.”

He was silent for a moment, just looking at her without speaking. Then he said, quietly, heavily, “Drunks fall off the wagon all the time.”

Her mouth opened as her breath expelled with an audible hiss. Her gaze fixed on his while she battled to draw air back into her lungs. She felt as if she’d been flattened, as if she’d suddenly been reduced to two dimensions in a three-dimensional world. Was that the explanation she’d been seeking? Something so sordid, so simple?
Drunks fall off the wagon all the time.
No. She didn’t believe it. She refused to believe it.

“I’m sorry,” he offered again. This time he almost sounded as if he meant it.

At that moment they were interrupted by someone shouting Alex’s name.

Eight

A
lex! Alex, are you here?”

Recognizing the voice, Alex jumped up from behind the desk and hurried toward the front hall from whence the shout had come. Even as she reached the library door, her little sister came into view. At fifteen, Neely was not quite as tall as Alex but a little curvier, with thick, straight golden blond hair that fell almost to her waist. The top section had been pulled back from her face and secured by a black scrunchy into a high ponytail that bounced on top of her head with each energetic step. Her youthfully round, naturally very pretty face had been vamped to the max by the addition of oodles of black mascara and sparkling purple eye shadow. The jarring combination completely overpowered the soft gray blue of her eyes. Her cheeks were striped with a brownish blush in an obvious attempt to create cheekbones where none yet existed, and her lips were shiny with pale pink lipstick. She was dressed in the latest retro hippie chic of artfully faded, embroidered jeans and a matching denim jacket heavily fringed with beads that allowed just glimpses of a hot pink T-shirt beneath. Spike-heeled black leather mules were on her feet, beaded chandelier earrings swung from her ears, and as Neely reached out both hands to embrace her sister,
Alex saw that her fingernails had been painted sky blue with minuscule daisies at the tips.

“Neely!” Alex enfolded her little sister in a hug, breathing in clouds of floral-scented perfume, surprised by how glad she was to see the girl. Despite the havoc she routinely wreaked, Neely was the person she loved best in the world. Alex had not realized how lonely she’d been feeling until Neely appeared.

“Surprise!” Neely stepped back and spread her arms wide, grinning. Looking at her sister, Alex felt the first twinges of misgiving.

“This isn’t a holiday weekend. You didn’t leave school without permission again, did you?” Alex asked anxiously. “You know they said they’d expel you if you did.”

Neely dropped her arms, stopped smiling, and made a face. “I hope they do. I hate that place. It’s bor
-ing.”

“Oh, no.” Alex closed her eyes, understanding from her reply that her sister had, indeed, done just what she feared. Neely had not wanted to go back to her exclusive boarding school after the funeral anyway, but Alex had insisted. With both her sister’s parents now dead—Neely’s mother had died along with her second husband in the crash of his private plane ten years before—Alex was now her fifteen-year-old half-sister’s legal guardian. But in practice, she had been Neely’s de facto parent for years. With their father continually preoccupied with business and a succession of wives, it had become the norm for Neely to spend summers and school vacations with Alex. But just because Alex was now legally entitled to tell Neely what to do didn’t mean Neely had to listen. In fact, Neely rarely listened. Alex loved her little sister dearly, but there was no denying that the girl was both spoiled and headstrong.

“Try pretending that you’re glad to see me, why don’t you?”

“I
am
glad to see you. Of course I’m glad to see you. But …”

Without waiting for Alex to finish, Neely marched past her into the library and paused inside the door, her attention obviously arrested by something that had just come into view. Following her, looking over her shoulder, Alex saw that Welch, having restored the chair he had desecrated
to its accustomed spot beside the fireplace, was standing beside it facing the doorway. Neely was openly looking him over, and as she did so his gaze slid over Neely in turn. He looked unfazed by both Neely’s open inspection and her ridiculous getup. Of course, Alex remembered, he had a teen of his own. That had probably inured him to anything the species could throw at him.

“Who’re you?” Neely’s question was just this side of insolent.

Alex sighed under her breath. She wasn’t up to this.

“Joe Welch. Who’re you?” His mouth twisted slightly as he responded to bluntness with bluntness.

“Cornelia Haywood. Neely, actually. Are you a friend of my sister?” Her cutely rounded figure still blocking the doorway, Neely assumed a provocative pose with one hand on her hip and her head cocked to the side. Alex put a gentle hand on her sister’s waist to move her aside as she tried to edge past.

Welch shook his head. “I manage this farm for your family.”

Alex squeezed through the opening just in time to catch the disappointed look on Neely’s face. “Oh. You’re an employee.”

“That’s right.”

The arrogant man probably deserved to be insulted, Alex thought, but she was embarrassed by her sister’s lack of manners anyway.

“I’ll be on my way.” Welch glanced at Alex as he began moving toward the door.

“I’ll walk you out.” The look she sent him was pregnant with meaning. She wasn’t finished with him yet, but she didn’t mean to have any conversation dealing with their father’s death in front of Neely. Neely’s relationship with their dad had been very different from her own. His divorce from Neely’s mother had been so acrimonious that the bad feelings left in its wake had spilled over to include their daughter. Consequently, he had had very little time for Neely. Neely resented his neglect and had never made any bones about telling him so during the infrequent times when they were together. That had made for a contentiousness between them that, Alex believed, made
the trauma of his death even worse for Neely than it was for her. At least there’d been no angry words left hanging between Alex and her father at the time of his death. Although Neely, like Alex, had learned over the years to protect her wounds from view, Alex knew that she was grieving deeply.

“There’s no need. I know my way.”

“I want to. Neely, I’ll be right back.”

“Don’t hurry on my account.” Neely moved on into the room with a suggestive smile at her sister. Alex ignored the silent innuendo and followed Welch from the room. He was walking fast, as if he was in a hurry to get away.

“Mr. Welch.” She caught up with him in the front hallway and stopped him by curling a hand around his upper arm.

He turned, looking down at her with a gathering frown. They were standing in front of the tall, gold-framed mirror that graced the wall opposite the staircase. A chance look at their reflection showed Alex that they were a study in contrasts. Even with her heels on, she did not quite reach his nose. He was all hard, dark strength, while she looked slender, fragile, feminine.

“What is it now?” He made no effort to conceal his impatience to be gone.

“I want to finish our conversation. About my father.” Her hand slid away from his arm. Her voice was determined. “Not now, because I don’t want my sister to overhear. But maybe later today. Or tomorrow.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he shook his head. “I told you, if you want any more information like that you’re going to have to get it somewhere else. Not from me.”

Then he simply turned and walked away. Alex could do no more than glare impotently after him as the door banged shut behind him.

Rude, impossible man …

“At least there’s one bright spot to this place,” Neely observed, coming up behind her. “The hired help’s sex on a stick.”

“He’s way too old for you.” Effectively distracted, Alex transferred her
frowning gaze to her sister, who was in the process of scooping a denim backpack up off the hall floor. “And you were rude to him, by the way.”

“I like older men,” Neely said, totally disregarding the rebuke. Backpack in hand, she headed toward the library again, glancing back at Alex over her shoulder. “Actually, I like all men. If they’re hotties, that is. And that one definitely is a hottie.”

Alex started to reply when her attention was caught by something that glinted on Neely’s nose as she turned her head. Eyes widening, Alex realized that a tiny diamond stud protruded from the side of her sister’s left nostril.

“You’ve had your nose pierced!” Alex squeaked just as they reached the library. It wasn’t precisely what she’d meant to say, but she was so surprised that the words just popped out of her mouth.

“Don’t bitch,” Neely said, dropping her backpack on the floor and crossing the room to settle on one of the few modern pieces of furniture, a plumply upholstered love seat covered in pale rose chintz.

“Don’t swear,” Alex, recovering from the shock, countered in the same tone, heading for the desk. First things first.

“Who are you calling?” Neely sat up straight as Alex picked up the phone.

“Your school.” Alex’s voice was grim.

Neely subsided with a grimace.

Mrs. Stanton, the headmistress, was forthright: “I’m very sorry to have to add to your troubles at such a sad time, Miss Haywood, but we can’t have Cornelia back.”

The words, although not entirely unexpected, were a blow. Alex took a deep breath, and cast her sister a narrow-eyed look. Neely stuck out her tongue at her unrepentantly. “Oh, Mrs. Stanton, you can’t mean that. Since our father died, she hasn’t been herself… .”

“Indeed, she
has
been herself, and that’s the problem,” Mrs. Stanton broke in firmly. “Believe me, I have great appreciation for Cornelia’s good points—and they are many—but she is just too disruptive for us to be able to keep her at Pomfret any longer. I feel we’ve been more than patient with her, but I have to draw the line somewhere, and I’m
afraid it’s here, with her running away for the third time in less than two years.”

Alex was silent for a moment. Even before their father’s death, Neely had been in trouble almost constantly in the year and a half she’d attended Pomfret. She’d been caught smoking (both cigarettes and pot), drinking, sneaking out at night, and smuggling a boy into her room, all on multiple occasions. She had surfed forbidden Internet chat rooms, made and received unauthorized phone calls, and stayed out past curfew so often that she was no longer permitted to go into the city on the weekends. Alex was fully aware of Neely’s full, less-than-stellar record.

But there were reasons for Neely’s behavior, Alex protested silently. Not that anybody but herself seemed to recognize them, or care.

“Is there nothing I can do to persuade you to give her one more chance?” Alex asked, already knowing that there was not. Mrs. Stanton was a nice enough woman, but she was fed up with Neely and Alex knew it. Actually, Alex couldn’t much blame her. Neely on a roll was enough to try the patience of a saint.

“I’m afraid not.”

Alex sighed, defeated. “Mrs. Stanton, I appreciate your patience with Neely. I know she’s been a little difficult.”

“Yes, well, some girls are.” Mrs. Stanton’s voice softened slightly. “She’s not a bad girl, Miss Haywood, just unsuited for Pomfret. If you wish to enroll her somewhere else, I’m sure we will do all we can to help you. Just let me know.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Stanton,” Alex said, and ended the conversation.

When the phone clicked down, Alex closed her eyes briefly, her hand still resting on the receiver. Talk about your bad days—what was she going to do with Neely now? Try to enroll her somewhere else, she guessed—but where? And would there be enough money to pay the tuition? One tiny bright spot in their financial landscape had been that Neely’s fees had already been paid for the full school year, but now—did Pomfret give refunds? This was a problem she didn’t need, on top of everything else. It was, however, hers to deal with. Just as Neely was hers to deal with.

Alex opened her eyes and frowned at her sister. “For your information, you’ve been expelled.”

“Yay,” Neely said negligently.

“Good attitude.” Alex came around the desk and sat down opposite her sister on the love seat’s twin. The pair was set at right angles in the far corner, with tall windows behind each.

“I try.” Neely’s glance at her was mocking.

“So now what do we do?”

Neely shrugged.

Alex waited. When it became clear that nothing more was forthcoming, she mentally reviewed her options. From earliest childhood, Neely had frequently put her in mind of the proverbial horse you could lead to water but couldn’t make drink. Challenging her head-on had always been a mistake. It inevitably led to her doing just the opposite of what was wanted.