Iced (28 page)

“What are your instincts about me?” Stewart asked as he put his hand on her arm.

Regan paused. “Aah. Aah,” she started to mumble.

“I can tell you’ve been holding back. It seems like you don’t trust me,” Stewart said with a soulful look. “That’s why I want to come out in the open with you.”

Regan looked puzzled. “Come out in the open about what?”

“I don’t own a children’s company.”

“You don’t?” Wait till my mother hears that one, she thought. She’ll go into a depression.

“No. But my uncle does, and I worked there a couple of summers in college.”

Regan was silent for a moment. “Why did you lie to me?”

Stewart stared into her eyes. “I didn’t want to. But I had to. You see, Regan”—he pushed his hair back from his forehead—“I’m Derwood’s bodyguard and he doesn’t want people to know it.”

Regan’s mouth fell open. “His bodyguard? Why does he need a bodyguard?”

“He needs protection because he just sold his computer business for two hundred million dollars. He’s just a little nervous about kidnappers because the sale got a lot of publicity.”

Regan gulped. Wait until Kit hears this one! She’ll be a basket case. “I’m glad you told me, Stewart,” Regan managed to say weakly as from the corner of her eyes she could see Kit and Derwood approaching.

“Regan!” Kit said. “Thank God you’re back!” She peered into the abandoned ballroom. “It looks like a game of musical chairs really got out of hand, doesn’t it?”

“Um-hmmm,” Regan said.

Derwood smiled at Regan. “We were worried about you.”

“Thanks, Derwood. Hey, we should join everyone at the table, but first I’m going to pop into the ladies’ room.”

“We’ll meet you inside,” Stewart said.

“Kit, would you come with me?” Regan asked.

“Why not? It looks like you could use some help with that dress.”

When the door shut behind them, Regan turned to Kit, who was now smiling at herself in the mirror, fixing a few wisps of her hair that were springing from her chignon.

“Regan,” Kit said as she smoothed the sides of her head, “I can’t believe everything that’s happened tonight.

When the lights went out and the tear gas went off, Kendra, Sam, Derwood, Stewart and I were all on the side of the table that made it hard to get out. People started running and panicking and I fell. But Derwood was so sweet. He scraped me off the floor. I’m telling you, maybe he isn’t such a bad guy after all. I should really give him a chance. It was a stampede but he stopped to help me when I needed help and that counts for a lot.” She shrugged. “And his arms felt so surprisingly strong around me as he led me outside.” Kit looked at Regan. “So Stewart gave you his jacket. That’s so romantic. I love it when a guy does that.”

“Kit,” Regan said, “I have something to tell you and I think you’d better sit down.”

“Why?”

“The news might make you sway a little.”

“Where should I sit?”

“Put the seat down on one of the toilets.”

Kit looked alarmed as she hurried into a stall, let the toilet cover drop with a bang, sat down and crossed her legs. “Regan, what’s wrong?”

“Kit, Stewart is Derwood’s bodyguard.”

“Bodyguard! That liar! Why didn’t he tell you?” Kit paused for the briefest of seconds, a look of recognition and then fear crossing her face. “Why does Derwood need a bodyguard?”

Regan swallowed. “Derwood doesn’t want people to treat him differently just because . . . just because . . . just because...”

“Just because
what
?”

“Just because he sold his computer company for...for ... for...”

“HOW MUCH?” Kit screamed.

“Two . . . two . . .” Regan was having trouble forming the words.

“Two million dollars?” Kit asked with a pained expression.

Regan shook her head slowly. “No no no. Two HUNDRED million dollars.”

The words sent a jolt of electricity through Kit’s body that made her shoot up from the commode like a rocket. She pushed Regan out of the way, her high heels scraping across the bathroom floor so fast that Regan was sure she saw sparks, and raced out the door. “Derwood!” she called anxiously. “Honey, where are you?”

Louis was running around the restaurant making sure that the media were happy. He wanted to get everyone together for a toast, and
People
magazine wanted a group shot of everyone involved. But first he had to wait until certain interviews were finished.

Ida was in a corner being questioned by Jill Brooke of CNN.

“You wouldn’t believe it,” Ida beamed. Suddenly she scrunched up her face at Jill, who was holding out the microphone for her. “Shouldn’t I look directly in the camera?”

“No,” Jill said. “Pretend you’re just talking to me.”

“Oh, okay. As I was saying, I noticed the green nublets on that criminal’s pants when I was working at the dry cleaner’s here in Aspen. I just happened to mention it when I was at the home of Kendra Wood, the famous actress. To think if I had never said anything, Regan Reilly wouldn’t have been on the lookout for the villains and they might have gotten away with it...”

Marvin Winkle straightened his tie as Cindy Adams of the
New York Post
sat down next to him for an interview.

“Now, Mr. Winkle,” Cindy said, “this whole incident is filled with individual stories that could give every talk show on the air an exclusive. Tell me about your part in this drama.”

Marvin smiled. “You know, Cindy,” he said with a self-satisfied expression, “I get great pleasure from my job. I’d been hired by Geraldine just recently to find the baby she’d given up fifty-six years ago. She’d given birth in a private home near Pittsburgh. An agency handled the adoption, but Geraldine had no idea which one. Some of them aren’t even in business anymore. It wasn’t until she let me know the other day that twins had been born that I was able to do some sleuthing that tracked them both down. Well, let me tell you something, when I found out that her twins had both tried to find her, and they both spent time in Aspen, I ran out and bought an airplane ticket to come right out here and tell her in person. Without advance notice, those tickets are very expensive. Anyway, I thought I could track them down when I was here.” He laughed. “It was my car that transported Geraldine to the reunion with her youngsters...”

Eben leaned over to Bessie. “You know something, Sis, when we were trapped in that bed, it some how felt strangely familiar. I knew we’d been naked together at some time in our lives.”

Geraldine swatted him on the side of the head, her eyes twinkling. “Don’t be so fresh!”

Bessie laughed. “I’ve got to call my cousin and have her come visit. She must be wondering what happened to me.”

“The more the merrier,” Geraldine said.

Ted Weems came hurrying into the restaurant.
“Oh my God!”
he was mumbling.
“My God! My God!”

Louis hurried over to him. “What’s wrong?”

Ted pointed to the Louis painting that was hanging over the fireplace. “That!” he said. “That!”

“What?” Louis asked. “Do you like it?”

Ted paused to catch his breath. “I was here for the party and spotted the painting across the room just as people were going in to dinner. Someone told me you had just gotten it from Geraldine Spoonfellow’s barn. I ran home to check my art history books and call my sources in France. Have I got some exciting news for you! Wait until you hear this!” He dragged Louis over to the painting and pointed excitedly as he talked.

Louis called everyone over to the table. “I know there’ll be lots more interviews, but I’d really like to make a toast.”

With that the door swung open and Larry walked in.

“Here he is,” Regan said. “Don’t worry, Lar. Everyone is all right.”

“Hey!” Larry protested. “I just got back from the emergency room. Somebody broke all his front teeth trying to escape from that disaster back there!”

“That’ll pay for your trip.” Regan smiled as she handed him a glass of champagne.

“He’s probably the one who stepped on me,” said Kit, who was now sitting with Derwood’s jacket around her.

Louis tapped the table. “I want to make a toast to everyone and an announcement.”

“Let’s have the toast first,” Luke said.

“To the most exciting opening in restaurant history . . .”

“Hear, hear,” they all said and gladly sipped.

“And to the fact that the Beasley masterpiece was in very good company in Geraldine’s barn. Early this evening, the eagle eye of our art historian and esteemed reporter, Ted Weems...”

Ted bowed and raised his glass.

“. . . took a close look at the Louis painting. He got on the phone with Paris and through the markings he was able to describe, he has verified that the painting is by Antoine Francois Callet, a famous French artist who was a court portraitist under Louis the Sixteenth. As a matter of fact, Callet’s portrait of Louis the Sixteenth is now hanging in Versailles.”

A hum of excitement rippled through the room.

Louis made a grand gesture to the portrait over the fireplace. All eyes became fixed on the imposing figure of Louis XVIII.

“What we have here is one of Callet’s last works, Louis the Eighteenth, who was painted on his Coronation Day in the early eighteen-hundreds. It’s a lost masterpiece that disappeared from France many years ago. It’s an important part of their culture and they desperately want it back. Geraldine, you are the rightful owner of it. When you gave it to Regan we had no idea of its value.”

Geraldine jumped up. “No sirree. A deal is a deal. It’s yours, Louis...”

I knew there was something I liked about that painting, Regan thought.

“You gave my boy Eben a chance by recommending him to Kendra and Sam. And he was a good caretaker, wasn’t he, Kendra?”

When he wasn’t sleeping in the guest room, Kendra thought, but she nodded yes.

“. . . and it wasn’t easy for you when people like me were screaming at you for giving Eben that chance. So that painting, whatever it’s worth, is yours. You do what you want with it.”

The television cameras were whirring madly. The photographers were snapping pictures. Reporters were frantically taking notes. For one terrible moment, Louis wavered and then did what he had to do.

“The painting goes back to France,” he announced grandly. “I think this whole group should plan a trip to Paris in springtime to deliver it. Nora, your books are popular in France. You’ve got to be with me when I present it.”

Nora looked at Luke. “How about April in Paris?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“I hope I’m invited,” Ida threw in.

“Everyone’s invited!” Louis said.

“Can you believe that two such priceless treasures were found from poking around in your barn?” Ted Weems asked Geraldine.

Geraldine put her arms around her twins. “I certainly can’t....”

Epilogue

Tuesday, February 14

R
EGAN’S OFFICE WAS in an old building on Hollywood Boulevard, the kind with wide dingy hallways and black and white tile floors and what felt like the presence of the ghosts of tenants from a different era. Regan had chosen to work there because she felt it had a sense of history in the walls. And most important of all, no fluorescent lighting.

It was a sunny afternoon. Regan walked briskly into the building and took the creaky elevator up to the fourth floor where she had a view of the Hollywood Hills, even if her window was small. When she rounded the corner of the hallway, she could hear her phone ringing. Pulling her keys out of her purse, she unlocked the door, took the two steps to her desk and reached for the phone.

“Regan Reilly.”

“Happy Valentine’s Day.”

“Hi, Kit.” Regan smiled. She sat down in her swivel chair and leaned back. “How’s it going?”

“Well . . .” Kit began. “No flowers yet. No candy. No cards.”

“Who were you expecting to send them?”

“Nobody in particular. But I thought some poor soul might remember me. I can’t believe Derwood never called.”

“You hated him.”

“Not for long.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I haven’t gotten any deliveries yet either.”

“Los Angeles is three hours behind Hartford. You’ve still got time.”

“Kit, I just got back from lunch. It’s two o’clock. If I was going to get anything, I would have gotten it by now.” Regan reached over and picked up the mail off the floor that had been dropped in the slot while she was out.

“The only thing good is that today is the end of the Bermuda Triangle. We’re safe for the next ten months. Regan? Regan?”

Regan, who’d been shuffling through the mail, ripped open an envelope. “Hmmm? Just a second.”

“Reilly, if I think you’re bored talking to me, then I’m really dead.”

“No, Kit!” Regan exclaimed. “You’ll never guess what I have in front of me!”

“A card from Stewart.”

“No! It’s an invitation to Geraldine and Angus’s wedding! With a special note from Geraldine!”

“Oh God, now I’m really depressed. What does it say?”

Dear Regan,

Life really couldn’t be more wonderful. Angus and I have decided to seal our love after all these years and get married next month. At our age, we don’t think long engagements are a great idea.

We certainly hope that you and your parents and Kit and Sam and Kendra will be able to make it. But I know that Kendra is doing so well in that play in New York, she probably won’t be able to come. We’ll have to send her pictures, I guess.

And can you believe it, thinking back to the first day I met you, that the reception will of course be at Louis’s place? He’s a real star here in Aspen now. Angus and I bring the twins down there several nights a week for dinner. Louis has a special table he keeps for us because it’s so hard to get a reservation there!

Eben’s fine. He loves working for Kendra and is so glad she let him keep the job and even gave him permission to live in the guest suite when they’re not there. But he made me put a hot tub out back here so there’d be one for when he comes over! I must admit that Angus and I love soaking our bones in that gurgling water.