Sweet Fortune (7 page)

“I hope so, Jessie.” Mrs. Valentine wiped away the tears and smiled mistily. “I feel as if some part of me has been amputated. It's a dreadful feeling.”

“I can imagine. Do you still think you might have been pushed down those steps?”

“I don't know what to think. The doctor explained to me about how one loses one's memory after a head injury. And the police were very nice. An officer came around again this morning and assured me there was no sign of any intruder in the house. My sister says nothing was missing or out of place. I guess I just slipped and fell.”

Jessie nodded. “Well, to tell you the truth, I'd rather believe it was an accident. The idea of someone deliberately pushing you gives me the creeps.”

“I agree. Best change the subject. How did your date go last night?”

“It was a disaster, just as I predicted.” Jessie forced a smile. “You see? I may have some psychic ability of my own, Mrs. V.”

“Yes.” Mrs. Valentine looked very serious suddenly. “Yes, you may, Jessie, dear. I have suspected for some time now that you have a natural, intuitive ability that you have never fully developed.”

“Really?” Jessie asked, surprised.

“It's the reason I took you on as my assistant. The thing is, I can't quite figure out what sort of talent you have, dear. No offense, but there's something rather odd about the way your mind works.”

“A lot of my previous employers have said something along those lines.”

J
essie looked down at her half-sister who was standing with her in Vincent Benedict's reception area. “You ready, kid?”

Elizabeth Benedict, curly brown hair in a neat halo around her head, her serious green eyes shielded behind a set of thick-lensed glasses, grinned bashfully. She tugged on the strings in her hand. The strings were attached to several helium-filled balloons which bobbed merrily in the air above her head. “Ready.”

Jessie glanced at the trim middle-aged woman sitting at the nearby desk. “His calendar's clear for lunch?”

“I cleared it, Jessie, just like I did last year for you. He doesn't have a clue.”

“Thanks, Grace. We couldn't manage this without you. All right, Elizabeth, here we go.” Jessie shifted the huge bouquet of cut flowers and knocked on the heavy paneled door.

“What the hell is it now, Grace?” Vincent called out irritably from the other side of the door. “I said I didn't want to be disturbed for a couple of hours.”

Elizabeth's grin faded, and behind the lenses of her glasses, her young eyes took on an uncertain expression. She glanced up at her sister uneasily.

“Don't worry,” Jessie advised. “You know his bark is worse than his bite. He's forgotten it's his birthday, as usual. When he realizes what's happening, he'll lighten up. Come on.” Jessie pushed open the door and marched into the room.

Vincent Benedict looked up with a ferocious scowl. “What the hell? I said I didn't…Oh, it's you two. What are you doing here?”

“Happy Birthday, Dad.” Jessie put the huge basket of flowers down squarely in the center of the desk in front of her father. “We're here to take you to lunch.”

“Good God. Is it that time of the year already?” Vincent took of his glasses and gazed at the mass of balloons and flowers. His expression warmed ever so slightly as he swung his gaze back to his daughters. “Shouldn't you be in school, Elizabeth?”

“Sure,” Elizabeth admitted. “But Jessie wrote a note saying I had an urgent appointment. The teachers always believe Jessie's notes.”

“I have a talent for making excuses.” Jessie untwisted the balloon strings from Elizabeth's fingers and reattached them to the nearest lamp. The balloons hovered over the massive desk, looking very much out of place in the solemn atmosphere of her father's office. “Nice touch, don't you think? The balloons were Elizabeth's idea.”

“I figured no one else would give you balloons. Do you like 'em, Dad?” Elizabeth anxiously awaited the verdict.

Jessie caught her father's eye. It was automatic. She'd been doing it for years in this sort of situation, she reflected. She was always on the alert to make certain her father understood he was not to casually hurt Elizabeth's feelings the way he had frequently bruised her own when she was younger.

Vincent pretended to ignore the warning look as he contemplated the balloons with a deliberate air. “Definitely a nice touch. And you're absolutely right. No one else is very likely to give me balloons for my birthday. Or flowers.” He touched one of the petals. “Thank you, ladies. Now, what was this about lunch?”

“Pizza or hamburgers. Your choice.” Jessie perched on the edge of the desk. “Elizabeth and I are treating.”

Vincent frowned down at his desk calendar. “Better let me check my schedule. I thought I had something on for today.”

Elizabeth grinned hugely. “Jessie made Grace keep your calendar clear for today, Dad.”

“Is that right? A conspiracy again, eh?” Vincent raised his brows at Jessie.

“Whatever works,” Jessie murmured, fingering one of the petals of a brilliant red lily.

“What the hell, it's my birthday.” Vincent turned back to Elizabeth. “Pizza or hamburgers, huh? That's a tough choice. I think I'll go with the pizza.”

Jessie relaxed. The battle was over. It had not been too bad this year. There had been far worse battles in the past. Maybe her father was finally mellowing. She looked at her sister. “Pizza it is. Witness a true executive decision, kid. Dad is definitely a man of action.”

“Damn right,” Vincent agreed as Elizabeth giggled again.

Jessie hopped off the desk. “Let's get going. We want to beat the crowd to the pizza parlor. It gets real cutthroat in there at lunchtime.”

The office door swung open before Vincent could get to his feet. Everyone automatically turned around to gaze at the man filling the open doorway.

“Somebody die?” Hatch asked, his gaze resting on the bright bouquet of flowers.

“Not yet.” Vincent stood up and reached for his jacket. “Just another birthday. My daughters are taking me out to lunch. Seems my calendar has been mysteriously cleared for an hour or so this afternoon.”

“You can come with us, if you want,” Elizabeth told Hatch shyly.

Jessie smiled loftily. “I'm sure Hatch is much too busy to join us. I'll bet he's got all sorts of megabuck deals that need his personal attention this afternoon. Isn't that right, Hatch?”

Hatch regarded her meditatively, idly tapping the folder in his hand against the door frame. “I think I could manage to get away for an hour or so. Unless Vincent would rather hog all the female company for himself?” He glanced at the older man.

“Hell, no. There's two of 'em. Enough to go around. You're welcome to join us. Jessie and Elizabeth are buying.”

“In that case, how can I refuse?”

“It's pizza,” Jessie warned quickly, her heart sinking. She could almost see the computer that served as Hatch's brain as it quickly reprioritized his afternoon. First things first. And item number one on his agenda was the courtship of Jessie Benedict, even if that meant taking an hour out of his precious schedule to eat pizza.

“I'll try very hard not to get any tomato sauce on my tie,” Hatch said seriously.

Jessie narrowed her eyes and decided he was not joking.

“Jessie's going to tell us all about her new case,” Elizabeth announced. “She's going to start work on it right away while Mrs. Valentine is in the hospital.”

“Is that right?” Hatch cocked a faintly mocking brow. “Going to help some little old lady talk to the shade of the dear departed, are we? Or maybe banish a few evil spirits from a haunted health club?”

“No,” said Jessie, stung by the cool sarcasm. “As a matter of fact, I'm going to help rescue a young girl who's been kidnapped by a bizarre cult.”

That wiped the condescension off Hatch's face. “The hell you are!”

*  *  *

His first, albeit vain hope was that she had been teasing him again, deliberately baiting him the way she so often did. If that was the case, he was reluctantly willing to admit that this time she had managed to draw a reaction.

But as Hatch sat next to Elizabeth in the pizza-parlor booth and listened to Jessie talk about her new “case,” he realized this was no joke. He glanced at Vincent, silently willing the older man to put his foot down. Unfortunately, although Benedict looked singularly annoyed, it was obvious he was unable to think of any barriers to put in Jessie's path other than overwhelming disapproval. Disapproval was not doing the trick.

Hatch glanced surreptitiously around. He felt out of place sitting in the garishly decorated pizza parlor. True, his and Benedict's were not the only two business suits in the restaurant, but they were definitely the two most expensive suits.

Hatch knew full well Vincent had planned to work through lunch. Benedict always had lunch sent in unless he was doing business over the meal, in which case he usually took his guests to his club. Hatch knew the basic schedule because he followed a similar one.

But today they were both sitting here eating pizza and listening to Jessie talk about a farfetched plan to rescue some idiot who'd gotten involved in a cult. As if Jessie knew anything about cults.

Jessie and Elizabeth appeared oblivious of the fact that they were not garnering any male support for the crazy scheme. Hatch watched both females down vast quantities of pizza while nattering on excitedly about just how Jessie should start her investigation.

“The library would be a good place to begin,” Elizabeth said seriously. “You can check the newspaper indexes to see if there are any articles on Dawn's Early Light or its leader.”

“Good idea,” Jessie mumbled around a bite of pizza. She looked at her father. “I don't suppose you've ever heard anything about it, have you?”

“Hell, no,” Vincent muttered. “Sounds like a bunch of damned tree-huggers. Stay out of this, Jessie. You've got absolutely no idea what you're doing.”

“I'm just going to ask a few questions and see what I can turn up.”

“You're supposed to be an assistant fortune-teller,” Hatch pointed out coldly. “Not some sort of unlicensed private investigator. Stick to learning how to read tea leaves and crystal balls. You've got no business researching cults, much less trying to discredit their leaders. People who lead cults don't take kindly to other people trying to prove they're frauds. You could be opening up a real can of worms here.”

Jessie traded a meaningful glance with her sister. “You get the feeling we're doing lunch with a couple of real corporate wet blankets, Elizabeth?”

Elizabeth grinned. “You said their main problem was that they didn't know how to have fun.”

“How right I was.” Jessie waved a slice of pizza at Hatch and her father. “You two better be careful or Elizabeth and I are going to walk off in a huff and stick you with the bill.”

“We'll talk about this later,” Hatch said evenly as he saw Vincent's mouth tighten.

“Sorry, didn't mean to bore you,” Jessie drawled. “By all means, let's change the subject.”

Vincent glanced at Hatch. “This is the wildest thing she's come up with yet.”

“I think it sounds like fun,” Elizabeth said loyally.

Hatch eyed Elizabeth thoughtfully. The girl was a little shy but certifiably brilliant. Hatch did not doubt that someday she was going to cure rare diseases or journey into remote tropical jungles in search of exotic plants. In the meantime it was obvious Jessie was struggling to make certain the younger girl built a relationship with her father.

Hatch had figured out weeks ago just what Jessie's role in the complex Benedict family was. She was the go-between who held everything together, the one who linked Vincent to the clan and the rest of the clan to Vincent. It was clear that her real job in life was holding the Benedict family together. Anything else that might come along in terms of employment was going to be strictly part-time. He wondered why none of the family, including her own father, realized that.

“Don't forget you're supposed to pick Elizabeth up at ten o'clock on Saturday to take her to the science fair,” Jessie reminded Vincent.

“I won't forget. Got it on my calendar.” Vincent gave his younger daughter a knowing look. “You going to win first prize again this year?”

“Maybe.” Elizabeth spoke with shy confidence. Then she frowned. “Unless they give it to Eric Jerkface.”

Hatch frowned curiously. “Who's Eric Jerkface?”

“The science teacher's favorite. He looks like he came right off of some television show featuring cute kids, and he knows how to kiss up to the teachers. You know what I mean?”

“Of course Hatch knows what you mean.” Jessie smiled blandly at Hatch over her sister's head. “He's very familiar with that kind of corporate mentality, aren't you, Hatch?”

“Very.” Hatch shot her a withering glance and turned back to Elizabeth. “What's Jerkface's project?”

“He's doing something on extraterrestrial life.”

Jessie was incensed. “Nobody even knows if there is any extraterrestrial life. How can he do a project on the subject?”

“Eric Jerkface talked the teacher into it,” Elizabeth explained.

“Well, the project's bound to bomb next to yours,” Jessie declared. “You're going to knock the socks off the judges with your chemical analysis of a toxic-waste dump, isn't she, Dad?”

“Right,” Vincent agreed readily. Then he scowled at Elizabeth. “I just hope you're not going to turn into one of those radical environmentalists.”

“Ecologist, Dad, not environmentalist,” Jessie said quickly. “And Elizabeth hasn't decided which scientific career she wants to pursue yet, have you, Elizabeth?”

“No I'm still making up my mind.” Elizabeth concentrated on her pizza.

“No rush, I guess. Just don't take as long to make up your mind about a career as Jessie's taking,” Vincent muttered. “What's the difference between an ecologist and an environmentalist, anyway?”

Elizabeth assumed a serious, pontificating tone. “Ecology is the
science
of studying the environment. Environmentalism is the social and political movement that causes all the headlines.”

“I wonder if Edwin Bright is a genuine ecologist turned con man,” Jessie mused, “or just an opportunist.”