Bougainvillea (13 page)

“Great Dane,” she heard in reply.

Turning, she saw that David was home, smiling as he watched her from the bottom step of the stairway. “I know he can't replace Whitney,” he told her softly. “And I thought a kitten wouldn't be quite right now. So…he's a Great Dane puppy. Not a lapdog, of course, but I thought that maybe…?”

Kit smiled slowly. She was delighted to see that he was back from the Keys, and touched that he would be so thoughtful to realize that a kitten could not replace Whitney, but that a puppy might be just what she needed.

“Too big? We can choose something else.”

The squirming ball of fur and feet in her arms licked the bottom of her chin, whining softly for attention. She stared at David, hugged the puppy, and set him back in his crate, then hurried to David, throwing herself into his arms.

“Is he a good gift?”

“You being back is a good gift. The puppy is just… wonderful.”

“Sure you don't want something smaller.”

“I like big.”

“Hmm. Do you?” he teased.

“Think the puppy will be okay for a few more minutes?” she queried.

“The puppy will be just fine. He's going to have to learn that there are times…well, times he stays in his crate!”

He kissed her. The kind of kiss that insinuated much more, then he swept her up, laughing, telling her to watch her feet, and she forgot everything else in the world, because he was back. Their clothing was soon strewn along the stairway, and she knew that nothing in the world would ever take her away from the man she loved.

It wasn't until much later that they dressed and came down to play with the puppy. They decided to call him Thor. Kit didn't care that the name might have been overused and not at all imaginative for a Dane.

David had to leave to go to the Coconut Grove office very late in the day. It wasn't until then that Kit took out her mother's journal once again, and began reading it. She read about day after day of lunches, dinners and appointments. As she reached the end, though, a piece of paper fell from the book. She recognized her mother's elegant scrawl and began to read.

Dear, I want you to know that I never meant to hurt you, that in my heart there will be a place where I hurt and sorrow and miss you all my life. But this isn't right. What I've done to a very good man who already
forgave far too many sins is terrible, and in the best interest of everyone, including you, I intend to leave immediately. Tonight, I will have the showdown. And tomorrow, I will leave forever, and make a better world for my daughter and my husband. Lord knows, I owe him so much.

The letter wasn't signed, but it was definitely her mother's handwriting. Nor was it addressed to anyone other than
Dear.

Kit bit into her lower lip, wondering how her father had carried his love for her mother all those years, when here, sadly, was the proof that she had been cheating on him.

But with whom?

Kit felt slightly ill, knowing why Marina Delaney might have been more than disliked by many people. And still…

She remembered the things that Mary had said to her. Mary had thought that she was Marina. Mary was worried about her.

There had been a showdown, the night her mother had died. Marina had planned on leaving Bougainvillea—forever.

If she had planned on leaving, why go swimming straight out into the ocean the night before?

The memory of finding Whitney returned to her, and mingled with the new sense of dread regarding her mother.

Healthy cats didn't just die.

No, there had been poison involved. Naturally, with all the foliage, buildings, possible rat problems, there were poisons on the estate.

But Whitney hadn't been a wanderer. He was well fed, and he was also picky about his food.

The feelings of suspicion and uneasiness that too often filled her in regard to Bougainvillea arose again.

Her husband popped into her mind.

He'd admitted that Seamus had sent him to get her. But she had been so enamored of him, so in love, she had wanted to believe what he had said. That he would have come for her anyway. He had married her. He made love to her as if she was as seductive as pure fire, as if she were truly cherished as well.

No. David would never hurt her, or use her for his own gain.

Still… She might hedge around her suspicions, but…

Was someone at Bougainvillea capable of murder?

“I
think it's curious that the cat just died,” David said, staring at Michael and Josh over a beer at the frond-shaded restaurant on the bay. “The animal was perfectly healthy when it came here.”

“Jeez, David, you're not accusing one of us of killing Kit's cat, are you?” Michael said.

“David, you
are
saying something,” Josh told him. “Kit thought it was odd, too. She stormed into the house. And you know Mom and Kaitlin—they were hardly sympathetic. I hope I made her feel somewhat better. We buried the cat in the pet cemetery.”

“Hey!”

From a distance, they saw Eli. He was still in his police uniform, but apparently off duty because he took a beer from the bartender before threading his way toward them.

“Hey, Eli. Long day?” David said.

“Hell, it's always a long day around here lately,” he told him. “There was a brawl in a bar on Grand Ave, some junkies attacked a little old lady on her way home from the grocery, and what else? Oh, a traffic accident
on US1 that tied up the city for four hours. Yeah, it was a long day. What's with you guys?”

“David thinks we poisoned his wife's cat,” Josh said dryly.

“I didn't say that,” David said with weary irritation. “I said it was damned strange that a healthy cat came to Bougainvillea and then died.”

“Kit's cat died?” Eli said, shaking his red head sympathetically. “Poor girl. Her dad not even a year ago, and now her cat.”

“It's all right. David brought her back a puppy,” Michael said.

“A puppy? A monster,” Josh supplied.

“Great Dane,” David explained.

“A dog. Good,” Eli approved. “Dogs are protective. And a Great Dane? Your wife will be in good shape.”

“Let's ask Eli,” David said. “Don't you think it's rather strange that Kit's cat gets here and suddenly dies?”

Michael let out a sound of irritation. “David! We all know that there's poison on the estate. Rat poison. Cats get into everything. Kit's cat got into one of the storerooms. It's really sad, and I'm sorry as hell but there's no conspiracy here.”

Eli sipped his beer, looking at them all. He met David's eyes.

“You're a cop, Eli. What do you think? Really sad? Or really odd? It was really sad about Kit's mother, too, wasn't it? She's due to leave the following morning—and she turns up dead instead.”

“David, that was a really long time ago,” Eli said.

“What the hell are you implying now?” Michael said angrily.

David leveled his eyes on Michael. “I was only seventeen when she died, Michael. But I think I'm getting at the possibility that we all considered at the time. What the hell, Eli, you remember when Marina washed back up on shore.”

“She drowned, David,” Josh said softly. “There was an autopsy.”

“She drowned, yes. Water in her lungs.”

“She was also drinking like a damned fish that night,” Michael reminded him.

“And she could swim like a fucking fish, knew the water and currents like the back of her hand,” David argued.

“That's right, isn't it?” Josh said slowly, staring at David. “You swam with her so often. Come to think of it—you followed her around like a puppy dog, so you would know all about her abilities, what she could do, couldn't do? What she was willing to do—and what she wasn't. Hell, she sure had her affairs. Were you the last one, David?”

He was tense, wary, and he didn't know why. Afraid, something he'd never been before. Not for himself.

He shouldn't have married Kit. Shouldn't have brought her to Bougainvillea.

His temper snapped. He rose, ready to take a swing at Josh that would have decked him.

Eli rose between them. “Hey, guys. Cop here. I'll haul you both in on assault. Settle down. The whole thing with Marina was tragic, and the cat bit is tragic, too, but it's going to be all right.”

“David, I'm sorry,” Josh told him quietly.

“Yeah.” Josh had been his own age when Marina had died. They had both thought she was gorgeous. And she had always shown them every kindness. He wasn't really angry with Josh.

He was just…afraid. Settling back in his chair, he decided that convenience should be damned. He didn't want to live at Bougainvillea any longer. He'd tell Kit when he got home.

But when he returned, Kit met him at the back door, a slightly frazzled look on her face. “We've got company. I hope you don't mind.”

Jennifer Harrison came running from behind Kit, giving him a warm hug, and planting a sloppy kiss on his cheek. “I had to be in the area for a cartoonists' conference. I thought I'd surprise you both. I hope you don't mind? I'm just here for a while—I have a hotel room on the beach.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You have to stay at Bougainvillea,” David said. He glanced at Kit. She gave him a look of appreciation that was deep and gratifying.

“We're dining up at the main house tonight,” Kit said. “You know Jen—she wants to meet everyone. And Lenore actually seems excited to have company—she's invited Eli, Shelley and Martin over as well.”

“I'm flat-out nosy as hell, you know that!” Jen told him.

David smiled. “Well, that's good. I hate to admit it, but we can bring new meaning to the concept of dysfunctional. Hey, how do you like the puppy?”

“He's great. A slobber factory, but he's great!” Jen assured him. “Kit—what a super addition he'd be to your comic strip. Hey, did you set up a studio?”

“Yes, and it's gorgeous, wonderful,” Kit said, smiling at David.

“Show me!” Jen insisted.

After the brief tour, they walked together to the main house.

Dinner, David had to admit, went well. They might have been one big, happy family. Seamus was in rare form, regaling Jen with stories about early area pioneers. Both Kaitlin and Lenore were polite, even laughing, seeming to have a good time.

Josh was exceptionally attentive to Jen—as was Eli. Jen was given a bedroom in the main house, though she warned them she'd be taking off for her publisher's sales conference early every morning for the next few days. Lenore assured her that there was coffee on every morning by six—Seamus was often an early riser.

When they returned to their cottage that night, David was relieved. Jen's arrival had seemed to help ease Kit's grief over Whitney, as had his return and, he hoped, the new puppy.

He was glad he had been delayed no longer than a night. Kit was curled in his arms as soon as they returned to their place, totally abandoned, as if she needed to bury herself in him, or in the euphoria of sex. It was difficult to find fault with a lover so sensual, beautiful, and enthused, and yet…he wondered if she hadn't been making love almost desperately.

As if she were running. And learning far too much about the past at Bougainvillea.

* * *

The alarm rang at six the next morning. David quickly clamped a hand over it, trying not to wake Kit.
He had a lot to catch up on. There was no reason for her to be awake so ridiculously early.

But as he dragged his fingers through his hair, telling himself he had to rise, he saw that she was looking at him, as if she had been awake for a while. He felt a tensing in his limbs and groin; she was extraordinary, even first thing in the morning, midnight hair a tangle over the pillow, eyes deep violet, the length of her barely covered by the white textured sheet. He was about to reach for her, a smile curling into his lips.

But she spoke. “David, do you know who my mother was sleeping with when she died?”

His body went cold. “No,” he lied. He kissed her lightly on the lips. “What makes you think your mother was having an affair?” he asked carefully.

“I found a letter she wrote to a lover.”

“Well, who was it addressed to?”

“‘Dear,' she told him.

He held her for a moment, his eyes intently on hers. “Your father loved her, she loved him. She had some wild times, and yes, I guess, she had affairs. But I really believe she meant to change all that, for your father. And for you.”

“I can't believe it's taken me this long to ask you, but where is my mom buried? I'm such a horrible daughter. I should bring flowers.”

David hesitated. “Look up,” he said softly. “Out the window.”

“What does that mean?”

“Her ashes were scattered at sea. That's what she wanted.”

“Convenient,” Kit said.

“What?”

“She could never be dug up for a second autopsy.”

“She drowned, Kit. There was an autopsy.”

“A long time ago. Medical science has come a long way.”

He kissed her again, worried. “I love you,” he said softly.

She smiled, cradling his head. “I love you, too.”

He rose then, and headed for the shower.

* * *

Having Jen around made the world a lot better. Kit had yet to lay out on the beach, so on the fourth day of Jen's stay, when her business was done, they donned suits, grabbed towels, and a little radio/cooler comber and headed down to the lagoon.

Kit told Jen about her mother's letter, and about the things Mary had said as well.

“Wow. Does Mary still think that you're your mother?” Jen asked her, eyes bright.

“I go over every day now. And yes, she keeps calling me Marina.”

“Poor thing.”

Kit shrugged. She had been able to find out a few details about her family here that she considered very bad—but there were a few that were good as well. Everyone in the household was fiercely protective about Mary—she was to have the best care, never want for anything and never suffer. Kit hadn't realized it at first, but everyone in the house visited her as well. They knew how to take care of their own.