Sweet Fortune (20 page)

“Good point. I see what you mean.” Jessie wondered if that was what Mrs. Valentine actually had, a keen intuitive ability and nothing more. “You appear to have quite a large staff.”

“Only about fifteen people in all. They come to us because they're genuinely concerned with environmental issues and because they believe in our nation's proved ability to find technological solutions to problems. They stay with us because they believe Dr. Bright holds out the best hope for finding answers. We certainly hope you and Mr. Hatchard can see your way clear to assist our work with a donation.”

Jessie started to respond to that but closed her mouth when she caught sight of Hatch returning from his foray to the men's room. Sherry Smith was walking down the hall beside him, her pretty face more intent than ever as she talked. Hatch was frowning thoughtfully as he listened. Jessie found herself strangely irritated by the air of intimacy surrounding the two. She turned back to Landis and smiled politely as she took refuge in a traditional wifely excuse.

“About your request for another donation. I always discuss major decisions like that with my husband, Mr. Landis.”

“Of course, Mrs. Hatchard.” Landis smiled his charming smile and motioned toward the staircase. “Shall we continue our tour?”

J
essie swirled the liqueur in the balloon glass and ducked her head to inhale the pleasant fragrance. She was feeling cozy and warm and replete. Outside the small restaurant a steady rain was falling. The meal she and Hatch had just concluded had been excellent. There was a fire burning in the hearth of the little dining room and the place was half-full of quietly talking people who were obviously enjoying themselves.

Jessie and Hatch had gone back to the inn after returning from the DEL tour, changed clothes, and walked to the restaurant. It had not been raining then, although the threat had been apparent. Hatch had said little during dinner. He appeared to be lost in thought.

For once Jessie had not felt like baiting him. She had been content, instead, to luxuriate in the unfamiliar sense of companionship. It was gratifying somehow to know they were both mulling over their shared adventure of the afternoon.

The trip had established a new bond between them, she thought. They had something in common now in addition to the undeniable physical attraction, something that had nothing to do with Benedict Fasteners. For the first time she had a glimmer of hope about the future of their relationship.

It was just barely possible that she and Hatch might be able to establish a meaningful communication, she told herself wistfully. The fact that Hatch was obviously concentration on her investigation tonight was a good sign. He was clearly capable of taking a genuine interest in her work.

Maybe Hatch's devotion to his own career was not quite so single-minded as her father's after all. Maybe he just needed to be lured away from his desk from time to time. Maybe with a bit of coaxing he could learn to develop the playful side of his nature, learn to pause and relax, learn to stop and smell the roses.

Jessie risked a quick assessing glance at her dinner partner as he signed the bill and pocketed his credit card. He was, for Hatch, almost casually dressed this evening. In other words, that meant he was not wearing a business suit. He had on a richly textured charcoal-gray jacket over a white shirt and a pair of black trousers. Instead of his usual discreetly striped silk tie, he was wearing one with little dots all over it. The man had obviously thrown all caution to the winds when he had packed for this trip.

Hatch glanced up and saw her watching him. She smiled warmly and waited expectantly for him to comment on some conclusion he had arrived at concerning DEL, or at least to note what a pleasant evening this had been.

“Damn,” Hatch said, frowning slightly, “I wonder if Gresham got his status report in to Vincent this afternoon. If he didn't, I'll hand him his head on a platter when I get back. I've had it with that guy. We're on a critical path with that Portland project. Nobody involved in it can miss even one more deadline.”

“Gosh, Hatch, that's about the most romantic thing anyone has ever said to me after a cozy little dinner for two in front of the fire. I could just swoon.”

He gave her a blank look for about one and a half seconds. Then her comment appeared to register. He got to his feet. “If you're not feeling well, we'd better get back to the inn.”

“Don't worry. I feel just fine.” She wrinkled her nose at him but said nothing more as he steered her toward the door. So much for the assumption that he had been dwelling on her project or her presence. His mind had been on Benedict Fasteners after all.

A few minutes later they stepped out into the misty rain and walked in silence back toward the little waterfront inn where they were staying. Hatch held the black umbrella over both of them and Jessie stayed close to his side.

The street through the center of the small island village was nearly deserted. A single streetlight marked the intersection with the road that led down to the harbor, but other than that there was little illumination. Jessie linked her arm through Hatch's, enjoying the size and strength of him there in the wet darkness. She thought of the bed waiting for them at the inn. Perhaps there was no long-term future for them, but there was the affair.

“Hatch?”

“Yes?”

“Would you mind if I asked you a rather personal question?”

“Depends on the question.”

Jessie drew a steadying breath. “Do I look like her?”

“Like who?”

“Your wife?”

The muscles of his arm tightened beneath her fingers. “Hell, no.”

“You're sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. What a damn-fool thing to ask. What brought this on? Who told you I'd been married in the first place? Your father?”

“No. I'm sorry, Hatch. I shouldn't have said anything.”

“Well, now you've said something, you might as well finish it.”

Jessie studied the wet pavement ahead. “I was talking to my mother. She mentioned that you had been married and that you had lost your wife. That led sort of naturally into a discussion of how men tend to look for the same things in a second wife that they looked for in a first wife. Which led to the observation that she and Connie are very much alike. Mom says men are creatures of habit. Especially when it comes to women. They're attracted to the same types, if you see what I mean, and—”

“I think that's enough, Jessie.”

She closed her mouth abruptly, aware that she had begun to ramble. “Sorry.”

“You're not anything like her.”

“Oh.” Jessie experienced a strong sense of relief.

“She had blond hair and blue eyes.”

“I see. Pretty, I imagine.”

Hatch hesitated. “Yes. Well, in a different way than you are.” He was silent for another beat. “She was taller than you.”

“Ah.”

Hatch shrugged. “That's about it,” he said gruffly. “What else did you want to know?”

“Nothing.”

“Good.” He sounded relieved.

“What was she like?”

“What the hell does that mean?”

“Was she nice?”

“Dammit, Jessie.”

“Did you love her very much?” She knew she should quit while she was ahead, but for some reason she could not seem to stop herself. The questions bubbled to the surface, demanding answers.

Hatch came to a halt and pulled Jessie around to face him. In the rain-streaked light that was coming through a nearby cottage window she could see that his face was harder-edged and bleaker than usual. Jessie wished she had kept her mouth shut.

“Jessie…”

“I'm sorry, Hatch,” she whispered. “Let's just forget it, shall we? It's none of my business. I know that.”

He shook his head slowly. “I know you better than that, Jessie. You won't be able to forget it now that you've started thinking about it. You're going to chew on it and fret about it and spin all kinds of questions about it.”

She closed her eyes, knowing he was right. “I won't say another word about her. I promise.”

“Sure. And if I believe that, you've got a bridge you can sell me, right?” He sighed. “I thought I loved her when I married her. She was everything I needed and wanted in a wife. And she was just as ambitious for me as I was. She was beautiful and understanding and supportive. She was born into the world I was moving into and she knew how to function in that environment. I was on my way up and she was going with me, the perfect corporate wife.”

“Hatch, please, don't.”

“She worked as hard to help me build my career as I did. She entertained my business associates on short notice. She saw to it we joined the right country club. She never complained when I was called out of town on a business trip. She understood about the demands of my job. She never made a fuss when I was late for dinner or too tired to make love to her.”

“Hatch, I really don't want to talk about this any more.”

“Neither do I. But you brought it up, so I'll finish it. To make a long story short, we were very happy together for about four years. I had a good position in a fast-moving company. Our future was all mapped out. I thought it was time to talk about having kids. She thought we should wait a little longer. Then a couple of things happened at once.”

“What things?”

“The company I was working for was the object of a hostile takeover. When the bloodletting was over, I was out of a job along with most of management. Not unusual in a takeover situation. Olivia took the news badly, though. We were almost back to square one as far as she was concerned.”

“And she had a hard time dealing with that?”

“Let's just say she was not particularly interested in starting over from scratch, and I couldn't blame her. I wasn't real thrilled with the idea, myself, but I had confidence that I could do it. I believed in myself, but she didn't. We quarreled a lot. She blamed me for the mess. And then she died in a car accident.”

Jessie could feel tears burning in her eyes. “Hatch, I'm so sorry.”

“It was rough. I was pretty well out of it for a while after the funeral. Which probably explains why it took me so long to find the note she had left before she got into the car for the last time.”

Jessie's insides clenched as she suddenly realized where all this might be leading. “What was in the note?”

“She told me she couldn't tie herself to a loser. She had her future to consider and she was filing for divorce. She planned to marry a friend of mine. Someone I had worked with at the company, someone I had trusted. He had landed on his feet after the takeover. Gone to work as a vice-president for the new owner.”

“Oh, Hatch.”

“Apparently he and Olivia had been having an affair for six months prior to the accident. The day she was killed, she was leaving to meet him. Olivia said in her note she hoped I understood.”

“My God.” Jessie had not felt this thoroughly miserable for a long time. “I'm sorry,” she said again, unable to think of anything else. “I'm so sorry, Hatch.”

“I figured out a lot of things after I read that damned note. I understood at last why she had been so reluctant to talk about babies. She hadn't wanted to get pregnant until she had decided whether or not she would be leaving me.”

Jessie could feel his fingers biting into her arms through the fabric of her jacket. She lifted her hand and touched his cheek. “Please, Hatch. Don't say anything more about it. I should never have asked about her.”

His mouth tightened. “You're getting wet. It's damn stupid for us to be standing around out here in the rain.”

“Yes.”

He took her arm again and started walking. “Anything else you want to know about me? I'd rather get the question-and-answer phase over as fast as possible.”

She had a thousand questions but she could not bring herself to ask a single one of them at that moment. “I guess I'm not very good at this sort of thing.”

“You might not be good.” His mouth quirked wryly. “But something tells me you'll be persistent. Are you sure you don't have any more questions?”

“I'm sure.” She reached up to pull the lapels of her jacket closed. “Feels like it's getting colder, doesn't it?”

“Not particularly. You're probably just getting wetter.”

“No, it's more than that. It is colder. Or something.” A small ripple of awareness went down her spine. Instinctively she glanced behind her. There was nothing to see but the dark, rain-washed street. A car's headlights briefly speared the night behind them and then vanished.

“Something wrong, Jessie?”

“No. For a minute I thought there was someone else around.”

Hatch glanced back. “I don't see anyone. Even if there were, it wouldn't be anything to worry about. This isn't exactly downtown Seattle.”

“True.” She shook off her uneasiness. “What did you think about our tour this afternoon? You haven't even mentioned it since we got back.”

“I don't know what to think yet. I want to take a closer look at something I picked up at the mansion first,” Hatch said. “Maybe have someone else look at it too.”

Jessie glanced up quizzically. “What on earth did you pick up? I didn't see you carrying anything.”

“I'll show you when we get back to the room.”

“Do you think there's any chance DEL is for real?”

“No,” Hatch said flatly. “It's a scam, pure and simple. What we saw today was a first-class boiler-room operation. One constructed with lots of fancy window dressing to impress the suckers.”

“I was afraid of that. You know, in a way, I was almost hoping it was for real.”

“Jessie, there are no easy fixes for the environmental problems we're facing. Just ask Elizabeth or David.”

“I know. Just wishful thinking. You have to admit that all those computer screens full of climate projections and stuff looked awfully convincing. I talked to Landis when you went to the men's room.”

“I'll bet he hinted he'd like a sizable donation.”

“Well, yes. But more important, I tried to get him to tell me whether or not Bright claims psychic powers. He said some people could interpret the man's combination of intelligence and intuition that way, but he made it clear Bright makes no overt claims to having psychic abilities.”