The Seductive Impostor (12 page)

 

It was time she got on with the business of why she was here. Thanks to Franny Watts, Rachel had finally filled her belly with enough proper nutrition that she was actually beginning to feel like her old self again. Two days of being confined to a wheelchair—and carried around like a child—had helped her knee immensely, and an afternoon of studying the blueprints of Sub Rosa had given her a few ideas of where to look for Thadd's secret room.

First, though, she had to call Willow, who was probably frantic at not being able to reach her. Rachel sent her wheelchair over to the writing table of her new first-floor bedroom and picked up the phone.

She'd changed bedrooms earlier this morning after spending last night tossing and turning in bed. Without the pain pills to knock her out, she'd found that sleeping on the third floor of Sub Rosa, even in the opposite wing from Thadd's bedroom, had been impossible. Ghosts of the disturbing kind had visited her dreams. Memories and emotions had invaded her thoughts so vividly that three years and even two floors of marble and granite would probably still not be enough to keep them at bay.

So instead of trying to sleep tonight, she was going to keep the ghosts away by going on a treasure hunt.

“Where in hell have you been?” was Willow's greeting when she answered the phone after only two rings, letting Rachel know she'd probably been sitting by the phone waiting for this call.

“Hi, sis,” Rachel answered cheerfully.

“Don't ‘Hi, sis' me. Where have you been? I've been calling the house for two days.”

Rachel took a deep breath, preparing herself for the firestorm that was about to erupt, and decided it was best simply to plunge headfirst into the middle of it.

“I'm at Sub Rosa.”

“What!”

“Now, Willy. It's not what you think. Well, it is, but it's not why you think.”

“I don't care what it is. Get out of there. Now.”

Rachel gripped the receiver more tightly and carefully tempered her lie with a small part of the truth. “Do you remember how Mom came to possess the emerald earrings and necklace you have?” she asked.

That diverted Willow's attention. She was silent for several seconds, and when she did finally speak, her voice was less angry but no less confused. “Daddy gave them to her. For their twentieth anniversary.”

“That's the story you know,” Rachel told her, softening her voice with compassion. “But that's not exactly the whole truth,” she added, crossing her fingers and closing her eyes, hating the half-truth/half-lie she was about to tell. “Actually, the emeralds had come from Thadd. He gave them to Dad to give to Mom.”

Silence again.

Rachel took a calming breath. “They're worth over a million dollars, Willy,” she told her. “And there are no papers of transfer for them. They're still legally part of Thaddeus Lakeman's estate.”

“How do you know this?” Willow asked, the anger returning to her voice. She was not pleased to discover that the jewelry she cherished had not belonged to their mother but to Thadd.

Yes. How did she know this, Rachel thought? Whatever story she told would have to contain enough of the truth that Willow would not get suspicious.

“The article in the
Island Gazette
started me thinking about Thadd's estate and all, and your wearing the emerald earrings made me remember,” Rachel began. “Those pieces of jewelry were never in Mom and Dad's wills specifically, and I realized that they probably still belonged to Thadd's estate.”

It was a weak story, and Rachel cringed at the realization that she had just started down the slippery slope of compounding lies.

“That doesn't explain what you're doing at Sub Rosa,” Willow snapped, obviously pained by the news.

“I'm here to return the emeralds.”

“That takes about five minutes. And you don't even have to do it in person. Wendell could have returned them for you.”

“A million dollars, Willy,” Rachel reminded her. “And they've been in our possession for three years. Thadd's lawyers probably reported them stolen when they inventoried the vault and couldn't find them.”

“It was innocent,” Willow pointed out. “They're not going to charge us with theft. Wendell can corroborate your story that Thadd gave them to Dad.”

“Then call me cautious,” Rachel countered. “We don't know anything about this Keenan Oakes guy, and we don't know much about Thadd's lawyers, for that matter. What if they don't want to hear the truth? And why even bother to take that chance? Especially now, with you just starting your new job. The publicity alone could be detrimental to your career.”

Silence again on the other end of the phone. “What are you saying?” Willow finally asked. “What are you planning to do?”

Rachel sat up straighter and gripped the receiver painfully tightly. “What if I just slip the emeralds into Thadd's vault when no one is looking? I'll stick them in something—one of his antique boxes, maybe—and when they're discovered, everyone will think they've been there all this time. That they had simply been overlooked before.”

“No. It's too risky, Rachel. This isn't like replacing a beat-up old mailbox. It's breaking and entering. If you get caught—especially if you still have the emeralds in your possession—you'll be charged with grand larceny.”

“Spoken like a true attorney general,” Rachel said, smiling now. “You know I can do it, Willy. I can get in and out of that vault without anyone knowing.”

Silence again. Finally: “Ah, if I remember right, you have to go through the tunnel that runs directly from Thadd's bedroom into the vault if you don't want to be seen. Do you really want to do that?” Willow asked, her voice gruff. “Are you prepared to put yourself through that?”

“Heck, no,” Rachel replied truthfully. “But I will, if it makes this mess go away. Besides, I can get close enough to the library, and then just sneak into the vault while everyone is sleeping. That's why I'm here, Willy.”

“Just give the emeralds to Wendell. He can find an anonymous way to return them.”

“No.” Damn. She was into this lie up to her knees, she might as well jump in up to her neck. “There're also some other items that actually belong to Thadd that we have at home,” she confessed. Heck, it would help explain their disappearance. “That painting over the mantel, for one,” she continued. “And the ring Dad gave me for my birthday.”

“Oh, Rachel,” Willow softly wailed. “Not your ring? Why would Dad have given us gifts that didn't even belong to him?”

“Because he trusted Thadd,” Rachel quickly prevaricated, trying to soothe her sister's disappointment. “He wasn't thinking about papers of transfer. But you and I know better, and now we've got to make this go away quietly.”

“I don't like it.”

“Neither do I,” Rachel shot back, getting angry, more at herself than anyone else.

Or was it Frank Foster she was really mad at?

“We'll come back to this in a moment,” Willow said, sounding very much like a lawyer. “You still haven't explained what you're doing at Sub Rosa.”

“Keenan Oakes arrived early,” Rachel told her. “And he showed up on my porch and asked for my help opening the house.”

Well, that was the truth. She didn't need to mention that the man had showed up at two in the morning and taken her back to Sub Rosa without her consent. But those were minor lies of omission compared with the whoppers she was telling now.

“And I decided to help him because it would give me an excuse to be in the house.”

“That doesn't mean you have to actually stay there,” Willow said, obviously not liking Rachel's reasoning.

“But it will make things easier. I slipped and hurt my knee again. Not badly,” Rachel rushed to assure her. She rubbed her forehead. This lying business was giving her a headache. “It was my idea. I can't hobble up the cliff path and through all the tunnels to return the items. This way I just have to disappear into a wall and come out in Thadd's library.”

“I still don't like it.”

It was time to end the conversation. Rachel suddenly pitied anyone who dared cross the citizens of Maine. Once started, Willow could argue a point until her opponent folded from sheer frustration.

“I have to go now, Willy. I promised Jason I would show him how to fill the saltwater swimming pool.”

“Who's Jason?”

“He's one of Kee's apostles,” Rachel answered, smiling.

“Kee? Apostles?”

“Keenan arrived with a small army,” Rachel explained. “And three of them are named after the apostles, so that's what I call them.”

“Dammit, Rachel. You're enjoying this.”

Rachel was taken aback by her sister's tone. “No I'm not,” she assured her. “But that doesn't mean I can't be civilized about this. The men are really nice, Willy.”

Rachel remembered meeting Luke, and how Matthew and Peter had helped her today, to move Mabel and the kittens down to her new bedroom. The two men had left wearing bloodstains and several Band-Aids.

“You called him Kee. That's sounding a bit chummy to me,” Willow said, no trace of chumminess in her voice.

“That's his name.”

“I'm coming home. Tonight. I'm leaving here in ten minutes, and I'll pick you up at the front door in two hours. Be ready, because I'm not getting out of the car.”

Rachel rubbed her forehead again. “No. I don't want you coming here, Willy. I've got everything under control. I'm going to return the stuff tonight, after everyone's gone to bed.”

Silence answered her. Rachel wanted to slam the receiver down in its cradle, but wisely refrained from adding to her sister's anger. Willow would be at Sub Rosa within an hour if she did, and she wouldn't stay in the car as she threatened. No, she'd be racing down Sub Rosa's halls, shouting for Rachel and charging through anyone who got in her way.

For a baby sister, Willow could be downright scary sometimes.

Rachel took a calming breath and counted to ten before she spoke again. “Willow,” she said more softly. “It's okay. I'm okay. Just let me get rid of Thadd's things tonight, and I'll return home tomorrow morning, first thing.”

“What if you get caught?”

“I won't. Nobody but you and I knows about the tunnels.”

“What did they do with Thadd's collections?” Willow asked, sounding calmer now but still not convinced. “It wouldn't all fit in his vault.”

“No. Most of it is still in place, but I think the more expensive, larger pieces are locked in a room on the third floor. That would have been my choice. It's a secure location, and it's climate-controlled because Thadd kept his tapestries in there. And when I tried the door today, it was locked.”

“Then that's where you should take the emeralds and painting. There's a direct tunnel from the great room. Can you walk well enough to climb three flights?” Willow asked, now obviously resigned to Rachel's illegal operation.

Rachel was impressed with her sister's deviousness. She should have thought of the room herself three nights ago, instead of the vault. It was a much simpler solution.

“Then that's what I'll do,” she told Willow, her headache magically disappearing. “I can make the climb okay. And I'll be back home by noon tomorrow.”

The receiver in her hand suddenly jerked, and Rachel looked down to see a kitten hanging from the phone cord dangling near her feet. The little bundle of fluff was accompanied by its two litter mates, and they were all trying to attack the cord. She smiled at their awkwardness.

“Oh, by the way,” she said into the receiver, holding it firmly. “For the record, we own a cat.”

“We do?” Willow asked, obviously confused by the sudden change of subject.

“Actually, we own four cats,” Rachel told her. “I had to make up an excuse for being someplace I shouldn't have been, and the only thing I could think of was that I was looking for my cat.”

“Where were you?”

“On the cliffs, near the tunnel entrance.”

“Dammit, Rachel. You're going to get in trouble.”

“No I won't.” She laughed out loud when one of the kittens began attacking the lacing on her sneaker. Some of the tension she was feeling suddenly eased. “It turns out there really was a cat, sis. I don't know where they found her, but two of the apostles showed up with her in their arms. And she's got three kittens. You just have to remember that her name is Mabel.”

“This isn't going to work,” Willow cried, her worry returning. “Wait until I get back and can help you. I'll go along with your plan—just wait for me.”

Rachel decided she should have hung up ten minutes ago. “For the love of God, Willow,” she said, her patience gone. “This isn't rocket science. Nor does it require two people. I'm here
now
, and I'll stash the emeralds and be home tomorrow.”