Smoke in Mirrors (35 page)

But to his disappointment, Kyle subsided with a resigned sigh.

“Look,” Kyle said, “believe it or not, I didn’t come in here to get into an argument. I just wanted to tell you to
treat Leo with respect, okay? She’s not like Meredith. She’s one of the good people in this world.”

“I know.”

Kyle hesitated. Then he nodded. “Maybe you do, at that. Looking back, I wish I had handled things differently. I think Leonora and I could have had something special together.”

“But you’ll get over her, right?”

“Oh, sure. Life goes on.”

He’d said those very same, very casual words himself, Thomas thought. When he had told Leonora about his divorce. But he knew now that he wouldn’t be saying them if he lost her.

“You know, Delling, I really hope you get that tenure-track position.”

Kyle didn’t bother to conceal his surprise. “Thanks. Mind if I ask why you give a damn?”

“Because I don’t want you coming back into Leonora’s life looking for more career assistance.” Thomas snapped the lid of the tool case shut. “Understood?”

Kyle made a face. “Understood. Good luck with Leonora, by the way. I don’t think you stand a snowball’s chance in hell of marrying her, but good luck anyway.”

“I don’t plan to leave it to luck.”

Kyle started to turn around. He paused. “By the way, that gray monster tied up outside. The one that looks like he works in a junkyard. Is he yours?”

“Wrench? Yeah, he’s with me. Why?”

“Just wondered. Never seen a dog like that. What breed?”

“Beats me. I never asked.”

“Does he bite?”

“He’d rip out your throat as soon as look at you.”

“Huh.”

“But only if I tell him to do it,” Thomas added softly.

Kyle turned and walked off down the aisle.

Thomas waited until the bell over the glass door at the front of the store tinkled to announce Delling’s departure before he carried the elegant little tool kit to the counter.

Gus Pitney, founder and proprietor of Pitney’s Hardware & Plumbing Supply, looked up from his newspaper and peered over the rims of his reading glasses.

Gus’s face reminded Thomas of the store, old and filled with lots of interesting stuff.

“Thought for a while you two were going to have a knock-down–drag-out right there in aisle three,” Gus said.

“Nah. Guys like that don’t get into fights.” Thomas put the tool kit on the grimy glass counter. “They publish articles in peer-review journals, instead.”

“That so?”

“Yep.” Thomas reached for his wallet. “I’ll take this.”

Pitney squinted at the tool kit. “What the hell d’ya want with that? It’s a real basic kit. You probably got several of everything that’s in there.”

“It’s a gift.” Thomas removed a credit card from his wallet. “Mind gift wrapping it?”

“Gift wrap? This place look like an outpost of Nord-strom’s to you?” Gus reached under the counter and came up with a brown paper bag. “This is what we call gift wrapping here at Pitney’s.”

“Fine.” Thomas made a mental note to pick up some fancy wrapping paper at the card shop across the street.

Gus went to work ringing up the sale on an ancient cash register. “None of my business, of course, but what was that all about back there in aisle three a few minutes ago?”

“Professor Delling and I were just having a friendly discussion on the subject of how important it is to have the right tool to do the job.”

“Huh.” Gus shoved the kit into the paper sack. “Best tool in the world is worthless unless the man using it knows what he’s doing.”

“I’m with you there,” Thomas agreed.

Cassie came out
of her bedroom, dressed in a bathrobe. Her red curls were wrapped in a towel. She held two dresses on hangers, one in each hand.

“Which dress?” she asked.

Leonora leaned back in the chair, stretched out her legs, steepled her fingers and surveyed the two offerings. The dress on the left was a short, sexy, black number. The tags were still pinned to the neckline. The dress on the right was a demure crepe sheath in beige.

“I like the black one,” she said.

Cassie studied it, unconvinced. “I don’t know. Might be a bit too much for a first date.”

“It’s not the first date. Dinner at my house was the first date. And then there were all those yoga lessons.”

“I know, but I don’t want to shock Deke. Call your grandmother.”

“You don’t think we can make this decision on our own?”

“I don’t want to take any chances. Tell your grandmother we need advice from Henrietta.”

“For heaven’s sake, Cassie—”

“Call her. I want to have an expert opinion.”

“Okay, okay.” Leonora picked up the phone. “But I may not be able to get hold of her. This is one of her bridge days. And I think she has swim aerobics, too.”

Cassie just stood there, hangers in hand, and looked stubborn.

Luckily Gloria answered on the second ring.

“Leo, dear, you
just caught me on my way out the door.” Gloria draped her pool towel over the handlebars of the walker and switched the phone to her other ear. “I’m on my way to swim class. Everything all right?”

“My friend Cassie needs more dating advice. She’s going to a semiformal reception. She’s got a drop-dead, sexy black dress and a simple but elegant beige thing with long sleeves and a knee-length hem. She wants to know which one Henrietta would suggest.”

“I see. Your friend, you say?”

“Right. Listen, as long as you’re asking for some advice for Cassie, would you mind asking Henrietta a question for another friend of mine, too?”

“This other friend is also attending the fancy reception?”

“Yes.”

Resolve shot through Gloria. “Give me a minute to get down the hall. I’ll call you back from Herb’s.”

“I’m at Cassie’s house. Let me give you the number.”

“Hang on.”

Gloria scribbled the number on the pad beside the phone, hung up, tightened the sash of her pool robe and headed for the door with her walker.

Herb answered when she pounded loudly on his front door.

“What’s up?” He frowned. “You look like you’re on your way down to the pool.”

“Forget the pool. I’ve got more questions from my granddaughter and her friend. I think this is getting serious, Herb.”

He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a computer class in fifteen minutes.”

“This is more important.” She maneuvered the walker through the door. “Out of my way, Herb.”

“Hold your horses.” Herb stood back to allow her into the apartment. He closed the door behind her.

She stopped, turned and sat down on the seat of the walker. She punched in the number Leonora had given her.

“Okay, shoot,” she said when Leonora came on the line. “We’re ready on this end.”

“As I said, Cassie is trying to choose between a short, sexy black dress and a little beige number,” Leonora said.

Gloria looked at Herb. “A short, sexy black dress or beige for the first friend?”

“That’s easy,” Herb said. “The sexy black dress.”

“The black one,” Gloria relayed.

Cassie came on the line. “Ask Herb if wearing a sexy black dress will conflict with my image as a nurturing female. I assume that was what we were going for with the lasagna and apple pie bit.”

Gloria looked at Herb. “She’s worried about messing up the nurturing image.”

“Time and place for everything,” Herb said. “Tell her to go with the black dress. No self-respecting man knows what the hell to do with beige.”

“Right.” Gloria spoke into the phone. “Did you hear that, Cassie? Herb says no self-respecting man knows what to do with beige.”

“All right,” Cassie said. “I’ll wear the black one. Thank Herb for me.”

Leonora came back on the line, sounding a little tense. “Tell Herb that the only dress my other friend has with her is a dark-green number with long sleeves and a cowl neckline. Does she need to go shopping?”

Gloria relayed the question to Herb.

“Tell her to go with the green,” Herb said. “It’ll be good with her eyes.”

“Herb says green,” Gloria said.

“Got it. Thanks, Gloria. And thank Herb, too.”

“I will, dear.”

Gloria ended the call, satisfaction bubbling through her. She looked at Herb.

“It’s working,” she said. “First dinner, and now a fancy reception. This Thomas Walker is definitely serious.”

“I’m serious, too,” Herb said. “When Henrietta’s name comes off that column, I want my photo to go up with my byline.”

“Columnists. You’re all prima donnas.”

Leonora stood at
the window and watched Thomas walk up the path to her front door. He didn’t look like a junkyard dog this evening, she thought. He looked exactly as she’d known he’d look in a suit and tie. Like a well-dressed mob boss.

The sleek, dark jacket he wore did nothing to conceal the feral quality. It only served to underscore the power in his shoulders. He looked exciting and dangerous. She was very certain that she had never seen anything so scrumptious in her entire life.

He carried a package wrapped in red foil in one hand. He saw her standing at the window and smiled. A storm of butterflies exploded in her stomach.

She was in love.

There were not a lot of moments in life like this one, she realized. Moments such as this; when awareness and anticipation and the sheer thrill of being alive all came together in an intoxicating brew that made the heart sing
and the pulse beat fast; such moments were to be savored and appreciated.

You’d think she was a teenager greeting her date for the prom. But she was no high-school senior and Thomas was definitely not a boy. He was a man in every sense of the word and that knowledge filled her with deep, feminine joy.

She opened the door. “You look fabulous.”

He appeared slightly startled and then amused by the compliment.

“Amazing what a suit will do for a man,” he said.

She shook her head a single time and stepped back. “What’s amazing is what you do to that suit.”

“Thanks.” His gaze moved slowly, deliberately down the length of her green dress, all the way to her strappy high heels and then climbed back up to her mouth. “But you’re the one who looks good enough to eat. Maybe later?”

She blushed. “If you’re still hungry.”

“I will be.”

He handed her the foiled package.

“For me?” She took the gift from his hand. “Thank you.”

“Decided I’d take a lesson from my dog. He’s always giving you things.”

She tested the weight of the gift. Much too heavy to be lingerie, jewelry or note paper, she decided. Curiosity consumed her. She ripped into the red foil.

To her surprise, the paper did not come off as easily as expected. The unusual gray sealing tape held the edges of the foil securely in place.

She pried at the tape with her fingernails. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a package wrapped quite like this.”

“I did it myself. Got the paper at the card shop.”

She plucked harder at the sealing tape. “Is that where you got this super-sticky tape, too?”

“No. I had that at home.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything quite like it.”

“Duct tape,” Thomas said.

“Ah. That explains it.” She finally got rid of the last of the red foil and the duct tape. She looked down at the black plastic case in her hands. “It’s lovely.”

“Open it.”

She unsnapped the catch and raised the lid. A row of graduated screwdrivers and a variety of other small tools, each neatly nestled in a specially molded plastic slot, gleamed in all their stainless steel glory.

“They’re beautiful.” She did not take her eyes off the handsome tools. “Absolutely gorgeous. I’ve never seen such a lovely set of tools.”

Thomas was pleased. “You really like them?”

“I love them. No one ever gave me anything like this before. They’re perfect.”

“Yeah, well, it’s a pretty basic set, but I think it will handle most of the routine jobs. The smallest screwdriver should work on your glasses.”

She closed the lid of the tool kit, latched it carefully and set it down on the coffee table. She straightened and kissed Thomas lightly on the mouth.

“Thank you,” she said softly. “I wish I had a gift for you.”

“You’re all the present I want. But I’ll wait until later to unwrap you.”

“Thomas, there’s something I have to tell you.”

He paused, a little wary now. “What’s that?”

“I think you would make an excellent father.”

He just stared at her.

She took his hand and led him to the door.

Some time later
Leonora found herself standing alone in the relative calm of a small alcove on the edge of the dance floor. She was waiting for Thomas to return from the buffet table with some food.

The transformation of Mirror House was complete. There was no sign of the organized chaos that had reigned on the ground floor during the past few days. In its place was a glittering scene that could have come straight out of the Gilded Age. The handsome reception rooms were filled with elegantly dressed alumni, members of the faculty and their guests. The heavy wooden furnishings, together with the red velvet draperies and carpets, glowed richly in the light of the chandeliers. The walls of mirrors reflected the crowd in a series of dazzling, endlessly repeating images that seemed to stretch into infinity.

Roberta, clad in a gray silk suit and adorned with a single row of pearls, came to a halt beside Leonora and surveyed her production with evident satisfaction.

“I was a little worried for a while that the events of the last few days would put a damper on tonight,” she confided. “But that doesn’t seem to be the case. Everyone appears to be having a good time.”

“You’d certainly never guess that one of Eubanks College’s most esteemed faculty members had murdered several people and then committed suicide.”

“In fairness, many of these people are out-of-town alumni,” Roberta reminded her. “Most of them never knew Professor Kern, except, perhaps, as an instructor they had at one time. And very few of them were acquainted with his victims.”