now on I need at least twenty-four hours notice.”
“I’ll plan more carefully for my emergencies, Bob.” She hung up and placed the telephone on the table.
“Everything okay?” Ross asked. Questions lurked in his eyes.
Frankie hadn’t told the Dukes about her recent situation. Since Penny was acting so sneaky and self-absorbed, it was doubtful she had told them, either. Guilt crept through her. Ever since Max had dumped her, she’d shut out her family. Ross and Dawn lived in Colorado Springs, perhaps twenty minutes from Frankie’s apartment. Embarrassment and pride had prevented her from running to them with her tales of woe.
“I don’t work for Max Caulfield anymore,” she said.
Ross cocked his head and assumed an expression that invited confidences. He’d always been easy to talk to.
Explanations caused a traffic jam of words in her throat. Even after six months it hurt to talk about Max. “Things got intense,” she finally said. “I’m waiting tables until I can figure out how to market myself as a freelance graphologist.”
“Self-employment is the best.”
Grateful he didn’t probe too deeply, she nodded.
“Julius is related to Caulfield.”
His statement made her wince. She stared at her hands. The redness had faded, leaving them looking paper-white against the chestnut hue of the tabletop. “Max married Julius’s mother. She’s rich.” She wished she’d never voiced Max’s name.
“Does that have something to do with you disliking Julius?”
She winced again. Ross knew. Not everything, but he suspected something heavy lurked beneath the surface. “Penny knows my reasons. We settled all this months ago.”
“Apparently not.” He topped off his coffee mug and offered her the carafe. “Maybe you kept her on too short a leash, Cuz.”
“Not short enough.” She waved away the offer of more coffee. “Apparently.”
“You’re a lot like the Colonel, Frankie.”
She knew Ross didn’t mean the comparison as a compliment. She scowled into the steam rising from the mug. “Contrary to what that brat says, I am not trying to ruin her life. Or run it for that matter. But she has no business getting married at her age.”
Elise Duke’s high heels clicked softly on the polished wood floor. “How are you, dear?”
Frankie shot a glare at Ross to let him know she didn’t appreciate his insinuation that she was a control freak like his father. “Where’s Penny?” She pushed away from the table, starting to rise.
Elise placed a gentle hand on Frankie’s shoulder. “It might be best if you kept your distance. She’ll speak to you tomorrow.”
Somehow, Frankie felt no surprise. Her entire chest ached as if she’d been walked on by an elephant. She slumped on the chair and sipped from the coffee mug.
“Penny and Julius are spending the week in the Honeymoon Hideaway.” Elise settled on the chair next to Frankie. Despite four grown children she looked youthful, slim and beautiful. Her serene demeanor had a calming influence. Her soft hand touching Frankie’s arm chased some of the cold from Frankie’s soul. “Stay the night with us, dear. We can have a nice visit. I haven’t seen you in far too long. Tomorrow, you and Penny can talk.”
She didn’t want to stay. She wanted to go home to her nasty old cat and sulk in peace. “Is she really pregnant, Aunt Elise?”
Elise shrugged delicately and flashed a wan smile at her son. “The child shall have two parents.”
Frankie groaned. “You don’t get it. None of you gets it. If she’s really pregnant then she’s in big trouble.”
“Now, Francine, aren’t you being a wee bit melodramatic?”
“What do you know about Julius? Did Penny tell you he’s been married before?”
“Well, no. But divorce isn’t exactly shameful—”
“It is in his case. He’s been married several times and he has kids. He doesn’t have anything to do with any of them. It’s all because of his mother. She won’t let anybody get between her and her baby boy.”
Ross cleared his throat. His eyebrows raised in a skeptical quirk. “Julius is old enough to make his own decisions.”
“He’s weak. His mother isn’t. She’s rich, spoiled and selfish. Julius always does exactly what she says. If she can’t buy off his wives, she scares them off.”
“Come on.” Ross rolled a hand as if urging her to get to the punch line. “She can’t be that bad.”
“She’s worse,” Frankie insisted. “Julius is weak, but Belinda is twisted. She’ll eat Penny alive.”
“CHUCKIE?” Paul’s voice strained in the darkness. “I can’t see nothing.”
Chuck paused with his shoulder pressed against the rough bark of a tree. He panted like a racehorse and his lungs ached. The trail where they’d parked the car was less than twenty feet away, but he felt as if he’d run a marathon. The lights of Elk River Lodge were visible through the trees. Still, on this moonless winter night, a blank world seemed to stretch away into eternity. The darkness squeezed him. An unconscious shudder rippled down his spine. What the hell was he doing?
He focused a flashlight in Paul’s direction. The thin beam flashed over tree trunks and made the snow glitter like diamond dust. He found Paul’s face. Eyes bulging like boiled eggs, mouth wide-open, nostrils flared, the kid looked as scared as he sounded.
“Easiest ten grand you’ll ever make,” Bo Moran had assured him.
The job sounded easy the way Bo explained it. That was before, in the warmth of the bar while he ate big, greasy cheeseburgers and the jukebox played old Eagles songs. Now here he was in the middle of nowhere, tromping through snow, five minutes away from possibly making the biggest mistake of his life. And he’d dragged Paul into it. He was supposed to take care of Paul, not set him up for a fall that could land him in prison for the rest of his life.
“Quit acting like a baby,” he whispered.
“It’s dark, Chuckie.”
“Of course it’s dark, you geek. We’re in the mountains.”
Up ahead, Bo Moran made an impatient noise. Chuck’s shoulders tensed. Chuck had talked long and hard to convince Bo that his baby brother would be an asset not a liability. Paul had the mind of a six-year-old, but he was strong and quick, and he did anything Chuck told him to do, no questions. He wondered if it was too late to change his mind, get back in the car, return to the city and forget this mess. Maybe he’d even get a real job.
“I keep hearing things, Chuckie,” Paul whined. “Bears.”
“Ain’t no
