Murder In Her Dreams (16 page)

Sharon surveyed the large crowd with
interest. “I knew this would be a gala occasion, but I hadn’t
expected to see so many tuxedos or all the sequins. Maybe you
should have worn one.”

“I don’t think I’m the sequins type.” Ian
grinned. “Besides, I don’t own a monkey suit.”

“I know.” Sharon sighed. “I considered asking
you to wear one for the wedding, but gave it up as too formal.”

“Thank God.” Ian held Sharon’s chair for
her.

Several other couples had already taken their
seats. Once seated, Ian turned to the couple next to him and smiled
as he recognized Heather and William Roston. Roston had been a
client for a number of years.

“William, Heather, it’s a pleasure to see you
both. Do you know my fiancée, Sharon Arthur?”

“How do you do?” Heather nodded at Sharon who
smiled back. “Do you come often to these affairs?”

Ian shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m usually
too busy although the firm supports the Literacy Council. Of
course, who would pass up an opportunity to hear Laura Bush? I’ve
always admired her. I only wish she had run for President instead
of George.”

Heather smiled at that. “I certainly agree
with you there. She has been a staunch advocate of efforts to
support literacy initiatives. As a trustee for the Council, I would
have come anyway, but Mrs. Bush makes it a double pleasure.”

“And the mousse, don’t forget that,” William
added.

Heather smiled. “William has a fondness for
the Hyatt’s White Chocolate Mousse.”

Ian grinned over at William. “So do I.”

A woman walked to the microphone and began to
speak. “If I may have your attention just for a moment. Dinner will
be served first, followed by several awards, and then our guest
speaker. Enjoy your meal.”

A phalanx of servers entered the room and
split into twos and threes as they advanced on groups of tables to
begin serving the dinner. Salads already sat at each place, and the
waiters offered the diners a choice of French or Ranch
dressings.

“Be nice to Heather,” Ian whispered to Sharon
as the server waited for Heather to indicate her choice of
dressings, “Her husband is a client.”

Sharon nodded with a smile. “Should I ask
them to the wedding?”

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Ian scowled. “I
don’t like mixing my personal life with business. Besides, I
thought we were keeping it to family.”

“Miss Arthur,” Heather began as she leaned
forward to speak.

“Do call me Sharon.”

“Sharon, have you ever considered
tutoring?”

“Tutoring?” Sharon eyed Ian, one eyebrow
raised.

Heather nodded as she passed Ian the rolls.
“The Literacy Council trains volunteers to teach reading. We can
never find enough people.”

“Oh, my company supports the Council, but
with our wedding coming up, I’m afraid I just don’t have the time
right now,” Sharon responded.

Heather gave Ian a sly glance. “When is the
big event?”

“May 15th.” Sharon smiled back as she placed
her hand on Ian’s.

“Perhaps after you get back from your
honeymoon, I could call you?”

Sharon picked up her salad fork. “Well, it
depends on my job too. We’re planning a big campaign this
summer.”

Ian, with no wish to antagonize Heather,
interposed. “Sharon works at Star Bank. She’s in charge of their
public relations.”

“Public relations?” Heather clapped her
hands. “How wonderful. We could use some help in getting our
message out to the public.”

Sighing, Sharon set her fork down again. “We
do some pro bono work for some community agencies. I’ll talk to my
boss about it.”

“How’s the family,” Ian asked in a belated
attempt to rescue Sharon.

Heather chatted on about her three
grandchildren while Sharon talked with the man seated next to her.
William focused on his food with an occasional grunt of assent to
some comment of Heather’s. The food lived up to the Hyatt’s usual
standards especially the White Chocolate Mousse.

The servers efficiently cleared the tables,
and the woman again approached the mike. “Tonight, Mrs. Bush has
agreed to present our awards. As you all know, we single out those
people who have made special contributions to our literacy
efforts.”

While Mrs. Bush joined the woman and made a
few general remarks, Ian’s attention wandered. He signaled a server
for a second cup of coffee. Mrs. Bush presented awards to several
men and women in recognition of various activities. The server had
just refilled his cup when a name caught his attention.

“Cassie Blake.”

Ian jerked his head up. Sharon gave him a
sharp glance, but the audience’s burst of applause drowned any
comment. He stared at the young woman in a long floral dress as she
mounted the steps to the dais platform. She wore her hair back in a
long braid, but the face looked the same. Sure enough, he
concluded, the very Cassie Blake who had served dinner to the
homeless, but who had also invaded his office with her talk of
rabid rabbits. Now, she smiled up at Laura Bush as she accepted the
plaque.

Heather leaned over. “Do you know her? She’s
one of our hardest working tutors.”

“I ... I’ve met her,” Ian acknowledged.

Sharon craned forward for a better view and
then shifted her glance to Ian.

Leaning close, Heather drew his attention. “I
can’t say enough about her. This Award is long overdue. I’m very
fond of Cassie. She works in the Arlington Library you know.”

“Oh, yes?” Well, that fit Cassie all right,
Ian thought.

He shifted in his chair, wondering if Heather
knew about Cassie Blake’s dreams and weird obsession with him. He
certainly didn’t want William or any of his other clients to think
he allied himself with weirdos of any ilk. It could cost
accounts.

Cassie Blake stepped to the microphone.
“Thank you, Mrs. Bush, and the Columbus Literacy Council. I don’t
know what to say. I’ve been so lucky. My students give me as much
and more than I give them. One of my students, Maria Herman, has
six grandchildren. Her family has been migrant workers all her
life, and as a child, she had little time for school. She has
always wanted her grandchildren to know and love the Bible, but she
couldn’t read, and her daughter worked long hours. At night, her
daughter was too tired to read to the children.

“Maria worried about her grandchildren,
especially when her grandson got into trouble at school. She made
up her mind to learn to read. I was lucky to have Maria as a
student. Learning did not come easy for her, but she persisted.
Today Maria not only reads to her grandchildren, but she too has
become a tutor for others.

“This award belongs to people like Maria.
They are worth all the time, effort, and money we can provide to
give them the basic skills to survive in this competitive world. I
thank you, Mrs. Bush, and the Columbus Literacy Council on their
behalf.”

Ian watched as Cassie Blake clutched the
plaque to her chest and hurried off the platform, looking not at
all like a crazy woman obsessed with rabbits and the idea someone
wanted to kill him.

* * * *

The photographer’s flash blinded Cassie for a
moment as she started back to her table with slow steps. When she
passed a table near the front her eye caught Heather Roston and her
husband.

Heather smiled and held out her arms.
“Cassie, I’m so pleased. No one deserves it more.” She enfolded
Cassie and hugged her close.

Over Heather’s shoulder, Cassie started as
she saw Ian McLeod studying her. She blushed, wondering what to say
to him. At least the last time they met, he hadn’t gotten
angry.

“Thank you, Heather.”

“Cassie, you know William, but have you met
Ian McLeod and his fiancée, Sharon Arthur?”

Disappointment knifed through Cassie. While
she had told Tula Ian probably had a girlfriend, secretly she had
hoped he didn’t. Attracted to his dream image, she had found the
real man at the Easter dinner irresistible. Uncertain what to say
to him, she fumbled her plaque.

“Hello, Miss Blake. Congratulations on your
award.” Ian smiled at her, reminding her of the man of her dreams.
The one who’d wanted to kiss her.

The icy Sharon Arthur added her
congratulations. Cassie stared, mesmerized by the green-eyed blonde
at Ian’s side. She watched Sharon slip her arm under Ian’s, a clear
message of her ownership.

“Thanks,” Cassie mumbled, confused and
uncomfortable. “I ... I have to get back.”

She scurried off to her seat several tables
away and sat down quickly. Her tablemates took the plaque and
passed it around to oohs and ahs.

Tula, magnificent in a deep purple caftan
with gold embroidery, hugged Cassie. “Sometimes, the good guys do
get recognized.”

“Yeah, but I wish it had been a little less
public.”

“Come on, Cassie, you’ll be able to tell your
kids you received an award from Laura Bush.”

“If I ever have any.”

“You will — Tula knows.” Tula’s gold
earrings, clusters of tiny bells, tinkled slightly as she shifted.
Her knowing grin faded as she peered more closely at Cassie.
“What’s the matter?”

Cassie stared down at the glass of ice water
in front of her. “I just saw Ian McLeod.”

“Oh, the unbeliever.” Tula nodded. “Where’s
he sitting?”

“In front of the stage. I had to walk right
past them.”

“Oh, but why the long face?” Tula looked
puzzled.

“And his gorgeous fiancée. I told you he’d
have one.”

“They’re not married yet. What’s she
like?”

“An ice princess, a cool, sophisticated
blonde.”

“Probably has dark roots.” Tula fluffed her
own rich, black hair fashioned into a dark nimbus that framed her
face. “Maybe he really prefers the natural type, like you.”

Sighing, Cassie shook her head. “A bimbo I
could deal with, but those sophisticated types intimidate me. They
make me feel like a little kid playing dress-up.”

Tula narrowed her eyes as she studied Cassie.
“Laura Ashley isn’t a bad model. Country English suits you. Always
stick with the image you can live with.” She gave Cassie a generous
smile. “You like him, don’t you? I said he’s the man of your
dreams.”

Cassie snorted. “He’s in my dreams all right,
but they’ve been nightmares, remember?”

“You have to make the dreams work for you.
Dreams, even nightmares, resonate power. Either we control them or
they control us. You have to decipher the message.”

“I’ve tried, Tula, I really have, but I can’t
make any sense out of it.” She straightened her shoulders, not
wanting to spoil the banquet. “Anyway, I haven’t had anymore.”

“You’ve met Ian McLeod. That’s a good first
step.”

“Yeah, and he thinks I’m crazy. Anyway, with
a fiancée like Sharon Arthur around, why look at someone like
me?”

“I wouldn’t be too certain of that, if I were
you.” Tula smiled, her eyes gleaming.

* * * *

Ian found his glance straying toward Cassie
Blake where she sat with her friends. With her hair back, her high
cheekbones lent her face an air of sedate elegance he hadn’t
noticed before. Her blue eyes had startled him with their innocent
directness. He found it hard to believe this was the same woman he
had escorted from his office and had told MaryLou to keep out.

Tonight, like the Easter dinner, she appeared
perfectly normal. Was she trying to set him up? Why and for what?
She had caught his attention all right, but to what end? What could
she hope to gain? He wanted to keep his guard up, but somehow she
kept forcing herself on his attention.

Heather’s warm endorsement echoed Jane
Wentz’s. Like Jane, Heather worked on a lot of causes, but he knew
her as a hardheaded realist. She had no patience with slackers or
would-be do-gooders who talked, but never accomplished
anything.

For a brief moment, he wondered if there
could be any truth to Cassie Blake’s warning. Rabid rabbits? The
very sound of the words made him want to laugh. Poisoned coffee in
his own office? No way. He rejected both ideas as too fantastic. No
one else in the office had gotten sick, and everybody except Mary
Lou drank the coffee. Somewhere along the line, Miss Cassie Blake
had a weird fixation, but she hid it well.

“Ian.” Sharon tugged at his arm. “Did you
hear what I said?”

“What?” He pulled his thoughts away from
Cassie Blake and turned to stare at Sharon, wondering what she had
said to him.

“I asked you if that woman with the award was
the same one you told me about. You know, the one who threatened
you.”

“She didn’t threaten me. She tried to warn me
about someone she said planned to kill me.”

Sharon looked startled. “Kill you? I thought
you said it was a rabbit?”

“Look Sharon, I’d rather not discuss it
now.”

“But was it the same woman?”

Ian sighed. “Yes. I want to hear Mrs. Bush,
so let it rest.”

Sharon subsided, but Ian knew she wasn’t
satisfied. Neither was he. He found it hard to reconcile this
Cassie Blake and the one he had worked with at the Easter Dinner
with the raving lunatic in his office. Well, not exactly raving,
but not rational either.

The audience laughed, and Ian tried to
concentrate on Mrs. Bush’s words, but he kept seeing Cassie Blake’s
startled blue eyes as she stared at him over Heather’s shoulder.
She had looked frightened, but of what? Did she fear him? Why? That
he would tell Heather about her behavior? Or did she fear for
him?

No one had any reason to want him dead. He
hadn’t lost any money for his clients. He hadn’t fired anyone. He
hadn’t gotten involved with someone’s wife or girlfriend. No one
had a reason to kill him.

The police always looked for a motive. Miss
Blake had to have one unless she had a screw loose somewhere. Could
she be working with someone? But who and why? He didn’t like the
circular path his thoughts took. He had discovered no answers, only
more questions.