he’d been punched right in the gut was just so much icing on the cake.
“Where’s Jenna?” Maggie asked, when Bobby returned to his office after lunch.
“Gone, I hope.”
Maggie seemed surprised and a little disappointed. “For good? I thought she was made of tougher stuff than that.”
“I should be so lucky,” Bobby said with a resigned sigh. “No, I imagine she’ll be back.”
His secretary grinned. “Good. I liked her.”
“That doesn’t surprise me. You’re cut from the same cloth.” He regarded her pointedly and added, “Neither one of you knows when to let well enough alone.”
“Okay, I get it,” Maggie said agreeably. “By the way, Richard called from the paper. He’s on his way over. He heard about the theft.”
“Why didn’t you tell him to talk to Tucker?”
“How do you think he heard about it?” Maggie retorted.
“Well, hell,” Bobby muttered. What good was it being the sheriff’s brother, if the man was going to blab your business all over town?
“Think of it this way,” Maggie advised. “It could be worse. It could be your father on his way over.”
“You have a point,” Bobby agreed, but his momentary cheer faded quickly.
Why had King been so silent? Usually he liked to make his opinions known. His silence did not bode well. Either he was sick or he was up to something. Since King was healthy as a horse, it was more likely the latter. Bobby started to reach for the phone, then stopped himself.
“Be grateful,” he muttered.
Maggie eyed him curiously. “What?”
“Nothing. When Richard comes, send him over to the kitchen. I’m going to experiment with a new crab recipe.” Maybe he could find a spice that would cover the taste of arsenic. The list of people he’d like to serve it to was getting longer and longer.
5
H iding out in Trinity Harbor for a few weeks began to seem more and more sensible as Jenna drove back to Baltimore. Not only would it give her time to land the development contract, but it would lessen the odds that her father would find out about that missing horse and the money she’d squandered on the carousel. Hopefully she’d recover the stolen horse in the meantime, as well.
And a nice long vacation with Darcy could only be a good thing, too. They needed to spend some quality time together. Maybe Jenna could actually manage to reestablish the fact that she was the mother and Darcy was the kid. Her daughter seemed to be a little mixed up on that point.
The more Jenna considered her plan, the more she warmed to it. By the time she turned into the tree-lined drive at her father’s house, she was convinced it was the second-smartest idea she’d ever had. The brightest was going after that development contract in the first place. It was exactly the kind of dramatic gesture that could change the rest of her life. If she made a success of this, her father would have to acknowledge her. He would have to give her more to do than answering phones and typing letters.
After just two days in Trinity Harbor, walking into her father’s house reminded her of just how pretentious her lifestyle had been up to now. There was too much of everything. Too many ornate antiques cluttered the rooms. Heavy draperies shrouded the windows. Vases filled with fresh flowers filled all the rooms with an overpowering sweet scent. Her father—or more precisely, his decorators—had access to more money than taste.
Jenna shuddered at the oppressive atmosphere and headed for the one room that was bright and airy, the kitchen that her mother had designed and her father rarely entered.
The housekeeper looked up from the salad she was fixing and smiled. “Welcome home,” Mrs. Jamison said. “Did you have a good trip?”
How to describe it? Jenna thought. “It was interesting,” she said finally. “And I loved the little town. In fact, I’m going to schedule a vacation for the next few weeks and take Darcy down there until school starts. How is she, by the way? Did she give you any trouble?”
“None at all,” Mrs. Jamison insisted, though her tone and the twinkle in her eyes suggested otherwise. Mrs. Jamison doted on Darcy, which meant the girl got away with quite a lot when Jenna or Darcy’s grandfather weren’t around to forbid it.
“Okay, tell the truth,” Jenna said with a sense of foreboding. “What did she do?”
“You’ll see soon enough,” Mrs. Jamison said mysteriously, that hint of amusement still threading through her voice.
“Please tell me she did not dye her hair purple,” Jenna pleaded.
“No, you made yourself quite clear about that,” the housekeeper assured her. “But perhaps you should have been a little more inclusive.”
A dull throb began behind Jenna’s eyes. “Meaning?”
Mrs. Jamison gestured toward the doorway. Jenna turned slowly and found Darcy peeping around the corner. Her hair was shamrock green and had been cut by blunt-edged scissors and gelled so that it poked up in all directions.
“You said I couldn’t dye it purple, ” Darcy said, her chin tilted defiantly.
“So I did,” Jenna agreed, wondering if this was the payback she was due for her own childhood rebellions. Of course, until Nick, hers had been minor in comparison to this. Keeping her tone level, she beckoned to her daughter. “Come in and let me see.”
Despite her defiance, the nine-year-old looked as if she might be harboring some very deep regrets about her impulsive behavior. “I think it looks great!” Darcy said, as if daring her mother to deny it.
“Well, there’s certainly no question that you’ll stand out in a crowd. Was that what you were hoping?” she inquired, knowing perfectly well that Darcy much preferred to blend in. Usually these little displays were designed solely to drive her mother up the wall. Darcy knew her mother would insist they be corrected by the time she went out in public.
“Yes,” Darcy said stubbornly.
“Good.” Jenna made a quick decision, one she hoped might impart a stronger lesson than the usual punishment she doled out, apparently rather ineffectively since the misbehavior kept recurring. “Run on upstairs and pack your clothes.”
Darcy’s eyes widened. Her lower lip quivered. “You’re sending me away?”
“No, I’m taking you away,” Jenna corrected, her expression as cheerful as if nothing at all were amiss. “We’re going on vacation first thing tomorrow.”
Her daughter blinked at that. “You’re letting me go like this?”
“It is the unique look you wanted, isn’t it?” Jenna asked innocently.
“But…”
“But what?”
“You
