the money to carry on the renovations. This place was their only chance to make up for what they’d lost.
In the sitting room she picked up the phone beside a gilt chair with an unraveling cane seat. She called directory enquiries for New Orleans and gave the name of Louis’s firm—never expecting to get a response at this time of day.
“Legrain here.”
She almost hung up. “This is Vivian Patin. My mother and I are clients of Louis Martin.”
“Well yes, Ms. Patin. I know your name. I’m Louis’s associate, Gary Legrain. I believe we’ve met.”
She didn’t remember. “Did Louis set out to visit us today?”
A short silence. “Why, yes. He left this mornin’.”
“He didn’t get here.”
More silence. “That’s not possible. If something had happened, a car accident or whatever, we’d have heard.”
“I was hoping he’d gone back to his offices,” Vivian said, the cold feeling intensifying. She hadn’t considered Louis getting in a car wreck after he turned back.
Gary was quiet for too long before he said, “He didn’t come back,” and sounded funny.
“Could he have gone home? Felt ill perhaps and decided to call it a day? Maybe Mrs. Martin—”
“There isn’t a Mrs. Martin anymore. He has grown children but he lives alone—except for staff. Let me call them and get back to you.”
“Don’t call,” Vivian said. “My mother’s a bit anxious. I’ll call you in five minutes.”
They hung up and she waited, praying Mama wouldn’t come looking for her. Fortunately, when Mama cooked, she tended to forget everything else.
Vivian called Gary Legrain again.
“He isn’t there,” the man said and although he was obviously trying to sound unconcerned, she’d unsettled him. “Look, this isn’t too comfortable to talk about and the last person I should say anything to is a client but I don’t know what else to do.”
Vivian waited.
“Ms. Patin, recently I’ve been happy to know that Louis has a new companion in his life. Well, this is…hmm, apparently they don’t like to be parted. If I had to guess—”
“You’d say Louis got to our front door and was overcome by a mad need to bang his girlfriend? Yes, I understand. When you see him, Mr. Legrain, please let him know I’d like to hear from him.”
“Ms. Patin, I’m sure it wasn’t quite like that.”
“Are you? Thank you for your help.” She hung up, disconcerted by her own bluntness and embarrassed at her sharp treatment of Gary Legrain who had been doing his best to smooth things over.
She and Charlotte didn’t want to take on more loans, not without being certain Guy hadn’t planned this whole thing. He’d been principled, but a joker. It would be like him to let them have a taste of really wanting the place and not being able to afford it before help showed up in some form. When Louis had set up today’s meeting, he’d alluded to a considerable infusion of funds from Guy’s estate, “In a strange way.”
Each time Vivian confronted the mess that was her life she thought about her father. He must have been frantic to put his business to rights. Family, his wife and daughter, came first for David Patin.
She heard laughter, actual laughter from the kitchens and felt a rush of unfounded jealousy. Hearing her mother laugh should make her happy. Hearing Spike laugh did give her a lot of feelings, feelings she had no time for.
Snatching the flashlight they kept at the bottom of the staircase in the hall, Vivian slipped quickly and quietly through a maze of corridors lined with closed doors until she found the one that led into an overgrown formal garden at the back of the house, behind the south wing.
Warmth still clung to the evening and the sweet, sultry scents of honeysuckle and clematis blossoms sweetened the air. Crickets and frogs had taken over the soggy grass and sang out their raucous chant.
She walked around the perimeter of the south wing, continued to the end of the west wing and finally reached the front of the house. Rosebank was shaped like an “H” set out at an angle, and with what would be the cross stroke of the letter joining the north and west wings to the east and south wings. Outbuildings nestled into the central courtyards on either side. The original stables, their wide gates flanked with columns to match those at the front of the house, were used as the garage.
Susan Hurst had been right when she said the place was huge. But that would be useful if the renovations could start again and move ahead steadily. Just ten guest rooms were all she felt they had to deal with to get started. Ten rooms and the restaurant they planned for a detached, wonderfully preserved, conservatory.
Damn, damn. If only they’d get some breaks. Even little ones would lift their spirits. Vivian left the shadow of the house and headed down the tree-lined driveway on the left-hand verge. She could have made her way nicely without the flashlight but liked using it. One of the things she loved about being here, had loved since she used to visit Uncle Guy when she was a kid, was how safe it felt. Year to year nothing changed.
There was a softness out here that took some of the pressure off her chest.
What did she expect to find at the end of the drive? Louis Martin with some excuse about a flat tire?
She ought to go back.
Rustling overhead made her pick up Boa who continued to try to keep up with her mistress. Crows, Vivian’s least favorite birds, flew, black blotches against a leaden purple sky where the already set sun still threw up a faint patina from behind a hill.
Just to the gates and back. She needed a walk. Louis was with his lady friend, darn him. She tried to imagine him in the throes, so to speak, and shuddered, then felt nasty.
Only the crickets, the frogs, and a host of gentle evening sounds reached her through the first spatter of raindrops on leaves, but she didn’t linger. Once she’d looked up and down the road, and felt foolish for doing so, she walked back, swinging her flashlight from side to side.
The crows puzzled her. They tended to settle by now rather than go on the wing with such determination. Boa grew stiff in her arms. The dog moaned, then set up a thin whine.
Vivian’s spine prickled. Yelping, taking her by surprise, Boa shot from her grasp and took off between two trees and into the undergrowth.
“Boa? Sweetie? C’mon back.” Shoot, Boa never got it that any animal she decided to chase off was likely to be bigger than she was, and mean. She followed the dog and shone the flashlight where Boa seemed to have disappeared. The tangle of overgrown shrubs formed an impenetrable barrier, unless you happened to be a five-pound dog.
A side road toward the north turned off a few yards ahead. It was designed for a grounds crew to access some of the more remote areas. Vivian ran toward it. She might be able to head Boa off from there.
Where was it? Oh, c’mon, where was it? She began to sweat, and feel sick. It was
