Finders Keepers (15 page)

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Authors: Fern Michaels

BOOK: Finders Keepers
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“At least you'll start out even. Is there anything else you think I should know.”
“Like what?”
“You know, size, weight, size. I said that, didn't I?”
“Yes. 34-23-34. Perfect size eight. Weight 110. And your measurements?”
“Have you seen the Lincoln Memorial?”
“Yes.”
“Me too. Nice evening, isn't it?”
“You're avoiding my question.”
“No, I'm not. I'm not answering it.”
Jessie grinned in the darkness. “Why?”
“I just met you, that's why?”
“Okay. I lied about everything.”
“What?” he squawked.
Jessie laughed. And laughed. She'd never had this much fun in her whole life.
Maybe this trip wasn't a mistake after all.
8
“Time to wake up, Jessie Roland.” Tanner nudged Jessie's shoulder lightly. “We're home!”
“What time is it?” Jessie did her best to marshal a smile as Tanner opened the car door for her. She felt incredibly tired, and the prospect of meeting Alexis Kingsley was making her heart pump faster. She looked around, but everything was in total darkness except a dim yellow light over what appeared to be the back door.
“I think my mother is waiting up. She doesn't usually do that. She has a sleep routine she adheres to. It's twenty past one in case you're interested. You said you were hungry earlier. I think I can rustle you up a sandwich.” It was all said in a flat, emotionless voice that caused Jessie to raise her eyebrows. This definitely was not a happy occasion.
“Don't worry about the sandwich. I think I'd just like to go to bed. It's been a very long day. By the way, I'm sorry I fell asleep.”
“Me too. Our conversation was just starting to get interesting when you nodded off. Not to worry, we have ten whole days to finish it. The conversation I mean.” Tanner's tone of voice changed. It became light, almost playful with an undercurrent of something she'd never heard before. “Ready to beard the dragon lady?”
“I . . . guess so.”
Tanner laughed. The fine hairs on the back of Jessie's neck started to prickle, and she began to get a sick feeling in the middle of her stomach.
They were in a dimly lit kitchen that looked homey and smelled heavenly. “I think this is my favorite room in the whole house,” Tanner whispered.
“Mine too. I mean I like kitchens, too. Why are we whispering?” Jessie asked.
“Because Mattie's room is off the kitchen. She's the cook. I thought I might whisk you up the back staircase so you can avoid meeting my mother until morning.”
“Why don't we just get it over with. If your mother hates me as much as you seem to think she will, you can turn around and take me back to the airport.”
“I expected you to come in the front door, Tanner,” a voice said from the darkened hallway outside the kitchen. “Please, keep your voices down. I swear, Angus, you'll do anything to irritate me, won't you?”
“Pop isn't here, Mother. He sent his secretary instead.” They were in the dark hallway. Jessie heard rather than saw Tanner fumble for the light switch. She wished the floor would open up and swallow her.
Alexis Kingsley was dressed in an ice-blue satin pegnoir with matching feathered mules. Her makeup, even at this hour, was as flawless as her elaborate hair. Huge diamond studs twinkled in her ears. There was no welcoming smile on her face.
The sick feeling inside Jessie's stomach crawled up to her chest. She worked at a smile but knew she wasn't successful. “Mrs. Kingsley, it's nice to meet you. I apologize for the late hour. The senator asked me to tell you he's been detained.” When Alexis Kingsley made no move to take her outstretched hand, Tanner reached for it and squeezed it. His cold voice when he addressed his mother sent chills up Jessie's spine.
“I assume you're having a bad night, Mother, so we'll leave you with your bad manners and head on up to bed.”
Alexis ignored her son's frosty tone. “When
will
the senator be arriving, miss, what did you say your name was?”
Jessie's back stiffened as did her facial features. “Jessie Roland,” she said coolly. “The senator said it's doubtful he'll be coming for the holidays.”
“Why is that?” Alexis snapped.
“I don't know, Mrs. Kingsley.”
“Aren't you his secretary?” She might as well have said, aren't you the one who does the pooper scooping? “Secretaries are supposed to know everything, or is this one of those need-to-know issues Angus is involved in.”
For the second time, Jessie said, “I don't know, Mrs. Kingsley.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Mother, that's enough.”
Jessie's back stiffened more. “Right now I'm wondering the same thing myself, Mrs. Kingsley. I merely followed the senator's orders. Here,” she said, thrusting the wrinkled shopping bag with the small presents nestled on the bottom. Alexis had no other choice but to reach for it. Diamonds sparkled on her fingers. Jessie turned on her heel and headed back the way she'd come.
“Jessie, wait!” To his mother Tanner hissed, “That was uncalled for, and Pop is not going to appreciate it. I don't think you want to irritate him, do you? An apology is definitely in order.”
“I do not apologize to secretaries, Tanner. Your father is doing this deliberately to humiliate me. He knows how important my Christmas party is.
Everyone
will be here. Washington shuts down for the holidays. This is unforgivable.”
“I'll apologize for you, Mother, since your good sense seems to have left you. I for one wouldn't want to be standing in your shoes when Pop hears about your rude behavior. He adores Miss Jessie. He trusts her, and he depends on her.”
“Don't threaten me, Tanner. I will not tolerate that sort of behavior from my daughter, and I will not tolerate it from you. Do what you want. I'm going to bed.”
Tanner's shoulders slumped. His long-legged stride took him into the kitchen. “Jessie, I apologize for my mother. Tomorrow she'll react differently. She gets like this every year before the party. I don't know why it's so important to her, but it is. Please stay. I want you to stay. How else can I get through that awful party? I promise to stick by your side every single minute of the day. The night, too, if you want. I hate to admit this, but I'm not really up to a ride to the airport again. I get up at four-thirty. If I crash now I might get a few hours' sleep. Please, reconsider.”
“For now. I will want to leave tomorrow, though. I'll call the senator and explain.”
“Let me do that. Come along, you look dead tired.”
Jessie followed Tanner up the kitchen staircase. The house was tomb quiet and just as dark. Tanner turned on switches as he went along. “I'm putting you in Resa's old room. She decorated it herself. I think you'll like it. It's right over Pop's study and has a wonderful view of the gardens. Mattie cleans and freshens up the room once a week. She keeps hoping Resa will come home. Mattie is the one who really raised Resa and me. I guess by now you more or less figured out we aren't like those television families you see every week at eight o'clock.”
“I'm sorry this has become such a problem. Good night, Tanner.”
“Good night, Jessie Roland. For whatever it's worth, I'm glad you're here. Sleep well. We'll talk in the morning.”
It was a pretty room, Jessie thought as she closed the door. She stared at the shiny brass lock for a moment, a puzzled look on her face. Without thinking, she snapped it home. Locks were for security. She couldn't help but wonder if the other bedrooms had locks or just Resa's. She looked at her bags. Should she unpack? No. She wouldn't be here that long. It would be one less thing she had to do in the morning before leaving for the airport. Instead she peeled off her clothes and slid into the high four-poster with the lacy canopy.
Jessie was treading the fine line between wakefulness and sleep when she heard harsh voices that seemed to be coming from behind her night table. Maybe she was already asleep and was dreaming. She punched at the pillow under her head. She didn't want to listen but she had no choice. . . .
“What are you doing down here, Tanner?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing, Mother. If I remember correctly, you said you were going to bed.”
“Your father doesn't answer his phone. That tells me he's with
that woman.”
“That woman
, Mother, used to be your best friend.
That woman
is my father's ex-wife.
That woman
is the woman you betrayed by having an affair with her husband and getting yourself pregnant.
That woman
is the woman who divorced her husband so you could give your child her father's name. You never loved Pop. You married him for his money and the power you thought he had. What you did has eaten at your soul every single day of your life, so don't deny it. You hated Irene's unselfishness for giving you what you wanted. You hated her abilities, and when she became a federal judge your hatred doubled because she wasn't the nobody you claimed she was. Everyone loves Irene Marshall. By everyone, I include Pop, Resa, and myself. If you're looking for her number, it's unlisted.”
“Give it to me, Tanner.”
“Never in a million years, Mother.”
“I'll call Resa.”
“She won't give it to you either, so don't waste your time calling her in the middle of the night.”
“That snippet you brought here must have it. She'll have to give it to me. I'll take the first flight out in the morning and go to her house. I do know where she lives, Tanner. She still lives in that silly little cracker box she lived in with your father.”
“Jessie is following Pop's orders. Even if she knows the number, she would never go against Pop's orders. Now, if I were Pop, I'd head for some warm South Sea island and celebrate Christmas under a palm tree. He knows how you think and operate, Mother. Anticipating that you will do exactly what you just said, he would not take a chance and stay in that ‘silly little cracker box.' Do what you like, Mother. For starters, I'd cancel your party. I heard a rumor in town last year that you pay people to attend.” A crash, the tinkle of broken glass, and Tanner's harsh laughter curled up through the heating vents and into Jessie's ears as she burrowed into the nest of pillows.
Jessie rolled over and laced her fingers behind her head. Wasn't anyone happy? What should she do? Did she dare creep downstairs to call the senator? Would Alexis Kingsley leave for Washington in the morning? The senator had once been married to Irene Marshall. That fact alone was mind-boggling. She wondered if Agnes Prentis had known that and why, if she had, she hadn't told her. Maybe she needed to read her predecessor's diaries from cover to cover. She realized a moment later she couldn't do that. Following Sophie's instructions, she'd mailed the diaries off to Atlanta. Besides, the senator's private life, past and present, was none of her business.
When she was no longer able to hold her eyes open, Jessie slept, her dreams full of rosy-cheeked ladies serving her raisin-filled cookies by the dozen as a cold-eyed regal-looking woman tried to snatch them from her.
 
Jessie woke with a start when she heard someone knock on her door. She was about to call out when she remembered she'd locked the door. She was sleeping in the buff, so it wouldn't do for her to run to the door. “Just a minute.” She ran to the bathroom and found an old terry robe hanging on the hook behind the door. She slipped into it.”
“I'm Mattie, miss. Mr. Tanner told me to bring you some coffee. He said he would wait to have breakfast with you. He said to tell you to wear old clothes because he's going to take you riding. You best skedaddle, miss. Mr. Tanner don't have much patience this early in the morning.”
Skedaddle. It must be a Texas word. Obviously it meant get a move on. “Tell Mr. Kingsley I'll be right down. Oh, thanks for the coffee.”
Jessie wondered what had happened to her good intentions as she stood under the needle-sharp spray. Tanner assumed she was staying, at least for today. One day wasn't so bad; she could leave tomorrow. If she stayed on a day or so, she wouldn't feel so guilty where the senator was concerned.
Dressed in creased jeans, ankle boots, and a red-plaid cotton shirt, Jessie was ready to head downstairs. At the last second she dabbed some delicious-scented perfume, a birthday gift from Sophie, behind her ears. She looked then at her unmade bed and her open suitcases. She made the bed and closed the suitcases. Decisions made before breakfast were usually less than satisfactory.
It was a pretty room, a girl's room. Daffodil yellow walls with crisp white curtains on the windows made it all girlish somehow. When exactly had Resa left this house? Jessie frowned as she stared at the quilted spread that was a splash of color with bright spring flowers dancing across the diamond squares. It matched the two tufted chairs and ottomans to perfection. The meadow of apple green carpet felt new and unused. Was this room Resa Kingsley's sanctuary or was it like her old room back in Charleston—just a place to sleep. There were no mementos, no old clothes in the closets. There should be something that said Resa once lived here and spent time in this room curled up in the pretty chairs. Was the old robe Resa's or did some other person leave it behind? “I think I'm going to like you, Resa Kingsley,” she murmured as she left the room.
Jessie entered the kitchen to see Tanner sitting in the breakfast nook that offered wraparound windows with a spectacular view of the gardens and brick courtyard. He smiled, and the room became lighter and brighter. Dressed casually, much the way she was, he exuded confidence and charm. “Name it and we have it. If we don't, Mattie will find a way to get it for you. So, what will you have?”

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