Silver Sparks (13 page)

“She got married again and went to Hawaii for her honeymoon.” She sounded as resentful as he felt.

Three weeks after her daughter’s funeral. He wasn’t even surprised. “At least this one must have some money, if he can afford that.”

She sneered. “He’s old. Probably has buckets full of it.”

He didn’t bother telling her that money didn’t automatically come with age. But if his mother had married an old man, Amber was right—the guy had money. Enough for his mother to stick her daughter on the first train to Denver.

“I can’t believe you found a bus driving into the mountains in this weather.” The thought of a bus full of senior citizens slipping off a sheer rocky cliff brought on an involuntary shudder.

“Well, of course not. They got through the pass before the snow started.”

He took his eyes off the road long enough to give her a sharp glance. “When did you get here?”

She shrugged. “I don’t know, around ten or eleven this morning.”

“This morning! Why didn’t you call me right away?”

“What’s the hurry? I was hanging with Ryan and Carrie. That’s the girl who worked the desk earlier. They’re pretty cool. Carrie’s in college.”

That was another thing. “Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“I’m only missing three days, then we’re out for the summer.” She scrunched her brow with concern. “Dude, are you always this stressed? Just chill.”

It was possible he’d never chill again. He started to rub the ache that was beginning in his temple, then thought better about taking his hands off the wheel.

“I didn’t ask to be here, you know. You want me to take off, just say so.”

Jesus. Take off where? “I want you to stay.” Sort of.

Amber peered through the snowy twilight at downtown Barringer’s Pass. Hundred-year-old brick buildings blended seamlessly with newer architecture built to match the old style. “Cute town,” she said grudgingly. “Do they have a mall?”

“No.”

“No?” Apparently it was difficult to comprehend. “Where are we going?”

“To a store called Fortune’s Folly. A friend of mine owns it.”

He thought she might object, but she looked interested. “A store, huh? Like a boutique? Do they have clothes?”

He snorted a laugh. “I didn’t see any.”

Ahead, some poor schmuck in a Mustang spun and slid as he tried to negotiate the slight hill. Cal idled at a safe distance, watching for a minute, then sighed. The guy was never going to make it without a push. Turning up his collar, he opened the door. “Be right back,” he told Amber.

She was already digging into the stroganoff and didn’t look up.

Maggie turned as the front door opened. Finally, a customer! The man stomped and brushed snow from his long wool coat, then looked up.

Her face fell. “Mr. Jameson.”

The De Lucas’ lawyer smiled as if they were old friends. “Miss Larkin.” He looked pointedly at the yellow blotches on her window and motioned with his head. “It appears someone is unhappy with you.”

“Kids.” She shrugged. “What can you do?”

He nodded, not looking especially sympathetic. “It’s fortunate nothing was broken.”

“Yes, isn’t it?” She watched nervously as he began wandering around the store. “Can I help you with something?”

“Nice place.” With hands in pockets and head cocked, he studied the slabs of fossilized sea creatures on the back wall. “You sell many of those?”

She suspected he knew the answer to that. “Not lately.”

He made a disappointed sound. “Pity.”

“Retail is like that. Sales will bounce back.”

“One can only hope.” He made a point of scanning each quiet corner of the shop. “I don’t see any customers. I guess that means you’ve had some time on your hands. I wonder if you’ve had a chance to rethink the De Lucas’ generous offer?”

“Yes, I have.” She took a few seconds to enjoy his confident look. “I’ve decided it’s even more repulsive than I initially thought.” Before he could react, she added, “But don’t you think the offer has become irrelevant?”

His eyebrows drew together. “Why is that?”

“Because after all the mud that’s been slung in the press, who is going to believe that Rafe and I simply had a lovers’ quarrel? It looks more like a nasty, prolonged breakup at this point, one that’s lasting longer than the so-called relationship. Which, I remind you, never existed.”

He nodded once. “I see your point. Perhaps all that is necessary is that you and your boyfriend call an end to your open hostilities against the De Lucas and allow us to handle the explanations.”

“My boyfriend’s not involved,” she corrected. “And that would mean not defending myself against accusations already made. I can’t do that.”

After a moment of confusion, his face cleared. “Ah, I see the problem. It’s your provincial attitude about the press.” His condescending smile made her itch to hit something. Like him.

“Let me explain,” he said, oblivious to her anger. “The public forgets, Miss Larkin. In the world of tabloid journalism, you are but a flash in the pan. Here today, gone tomorrow. Rafael, on the other hand, was famous before he came here and will be famous after he leaves. And in his world, reputation equals money. Therefore it is my job to refute irresponsible, negative stories like yours. This public dispute with the De Lucas is merely your fifteen minutes of fame. Should it disappear today, I guarantee your name will be forgotten tomorrow.”

She stared. He really thought that solved everything. It was too bad he wouldn’t understand her anger, because he was about to get a big dose of it.

She folded her arms so she wouldn’t punch him in the nose. “Now let
me
explain something to
you
, Mr. Jameson. Here in my provincial little town, the things said in the press will
not
be forgotten tomorrow. Or next month, or next year. So, naturally, I feel a need to defend myself against false accusations. A minor detail in the De Lucas’ lives, but a major one in mine. Unless Rafe or the De Luca family cares to retract statements made about me—”

“They didn’t make those statements. The press did.”

She smiled without a drop of sincerity. “Of course. Unless they care to make a statement defending me, and to tell the press to back the hell off, I will continue to do whatever I can to protect my reputation.”

“Your solution seems unlikely.”

“Then so does yours.”

He shook his head. “I confess I’m disappointed, Miss Larkin.”

Since he really meant
fuck you
, his formal language irritated her like nails on a blackboard. “Life is full of disappointments, Mr. Jameson.”

She was hoping to at least make a dent in his professional calm, but he nodded serenely. “Yes, life has disappointments.” To her surprise, he savored it like a precious nugget of wisdom. “I understand your morning was also rather disappointing. Or perhaps frightening is a better word?”

Anger flashed, bright and hot, helping her ignore the twinge of fear beneath it. “Perhaps harassment would be a better word. Where was your client this morning?”

“I’m sure his whereabouts can be accounted for by several witnesses.”

“I’m sure.” She’d had about enough of this. Starting toward the door, she said, “If there’s nothing else, I think you should leave.”

“How’s your sister?”

She froze. “Excuse me?”

“The youngest one. Sophia, isn’t it?” He didn’t even raise his head as he fingered a box of ancient bivalves. “I heard she was home from school.”

She gave him a long, cold look. “I don’t think it’s any concern of yours.”

He picked up a sharply pointed tooth, larger than the palm of his hand, from an extinct megalodon shark. He turned it idly as he spoke. “I heard she applied for a research assistant position. Sounds like a smart move—if she can get it, of course.”

Beside her eye, a tiny muscle began to twitch. “Mr. Jameson, you need to leave. Now.”

He ran his thumb over the serrated edge of the tooth. “This is a nice piece.”

“They’re especially popular with lawyers.”

Cool amusement touched his mouth for a second, then was gone. He made his way toward the door as she concentrated on not bursting out of her skin with impatience. “Good-bye, Miss Larkin. Perhaps I’ll see you again soon.”

Her only response was a stony stare, which didn’t seem to bother him in the least, and did little to ease the prickle of fear he’d raised between her shoulder blades. With a slight nod, he walked out.

Maggie squeezed her eyes shut and took several deep breaths. Then she called Sophie.

Her sister seemed preoccupied, so she got right to the point. “Sophie, did you apply for a research assistant position?”

Sophie hesitated. “Who told you that?”

“The De Lucas’ lawyer. Is it true?”

This time she heard a heavy sigh. “I didn’t get it.”

Clammy sweat suddenly dotted her forehead and upper lip. “Because of me? They can’t deny you a position because of something your sister did!”

“They didn’t. Not exactly.” She heard the reluctance in Sophie’s voice. “Maggie, my grad advisor called and asked what I’d done to piss off the De Lucas. Apparently they made a big donation to fund his proposed research project, with one stipulation.”

The sick feeling in her stomach congealed into a rock. “That he couldn’t hire you.”

“Right.” Her voice turned bitter. “And he didn’t have any choice, because the asshole chairman of the department had already accepted the money.”

“Shit,” Maggie swore viciously. Sophie, untouched by scandal, had aspired to far more than either she or Zoe. The two of them had wasted several years living down to expectations, but Sophie had followed an ambitious career plan since high school. They were enormously proud of her accomplishments. Now the De Lucas were ripping away any further opportunities.

“I’m so sorry, Sophie.”

“Don’t be.” Her sister’s voice was surprisingly harsh. “I want you to destroy that bastard, Maggie. And I want to help.”

She’d do everything possible to keep Sophie away from anyone connected to the De Luca family. “Thanks, I’ll let you know if I need you.”

She hung up, sure of one thing: the only way to keep Sophie out of it was to keep the De Lucas focused on something else. She’d had an idea about how to do that earlier, while thinking about how much Rick Grady hated the De Lucas. Others in Barringer’s Pass felt the same way. But some of the residents obviously felt as Mrs. Anders did, that the De Lucas provided employment for many people around here. Those people would hate her for rocking that boat.

Her idea depended on a good number of people actively and publicly disliking the De Lucas. Or a small number of the right people. It was a huge gamble, but it might work if done right.

The reluctant thought occurred that she still needed Cal’s approval. She might do it regardless, but she’d come to respect his knowledge and experience.

As if aware that she might be considering another independent plan, he walked in through the back room, trailed by a short girl with neon-blue and brown hair. Amber turned in a circle as she walked forward, trying to take in everything at once, giving Maggie a chance to look her over.

Not a girl, she corrected, assessing the mature figure and makeup. A sixteen-year-old who could easily pass for twenty-one, and probably did on occasion. Her knit top didn’t quite make it down to her low-slung jeans, and the glimpse of tanned skin in between revealed a pierced navel with a stone that flashed purple in the bright lights. On the back of her neck a tattoo peeked above her scoop-neck sweater, and another farther down disappeared into her jeans. Maggie could only wonder how many she couldn’t see.

Not what she’d pictured as Cal’s little sister. She bit her cheek to repress the grin that threatened to break out.

“Amber, this is Maggie,” Cal said.

The girl turned, settling her curious gaze on Maggie. “Hi,” she offered. Her smile was guarded as her eyes traveled over every inch of Maggie from hair to shoes. She gestured at the wall. “People actually buy this dinosaur stuff?”

“They actually do.”

“Huh.” Amber wandered around the large central display counter, lingering over the gemstone rings. “Nice jewelry.”

“Thanks.” Maggie smiled at Cal, who watched the girl with a slightly puzzled look, as if wondering if he’d possibly picked up a space alien disguised as his sister. She stepped closer to him and spoke in a low voice. “How long since you last saw each other?”

“Except for the funeral, three years.”

From age thirteen to sixteen. Her smile got bigger. “Girls change a lot during those years.”

“No kidding.”

Amber finished her circuit of the store. “I like the rugs,” she told Maggie, then made a disappointed sound with her tongue. “No clothes, huh?”

“Sorry.”

Amber nodded, accepting her misfortune stoically. “At least the jewelry’s cool. Can I try some rings on?”

Cal frowned. “I don’t think—”

“Sure.” She cut him off and went behind the counter to unlock the case. “Come around here and show me which ones you want to try.”