claimed she’s working on her PhD in psychology, but I have trouble believing that. And she looks like the love child of two hippies from a commune in the ‘70s, transported to the present time.”
“Oh. I hope she’s not … you know, up to something.”
“Up to something?”
“I mean, Lilah just popped up out of nowhere, and next thing I know, Eleanor invited her to move in. I haven’t had a chance to check her out myself yet. Neither has Eleanor’s godson, Tate. We have to be careful. The ladies don’t like it when they think we’re checking up on them.”
“So?”
Wyatt shrugged easily. “If you could just talk to Lilah, figure out what she’s trying to do, I’d really appreciate it. I know Tate would, too.”
Ashe groaned.
“Hey, you have no idea what I’m dealing with here trying to look after these women,” Wyatt complained. “They’re manipulative, stubborn as can be, determined to maintain their independence at any price. And it’s not like you can twist their arms until they talk. They’re little old ladies.”
“I’m so happy to hear you’re not abusing your elderly relatives,” Ashe quipped.
“Remember, this is good for you, too. Eleanor could be a tremendous help when it comes time for your election. That woman knows everyone in this town, and she knows how to raise money. You’ll need money, and I know you’re going to hate asking people for it.”
Ashe groaned. He dreaded the thought of campaigning to keep his job. It was one of the quirks in Maryland’s judicial system. Judges were appointed by the governor to an initial term, but to keep their seat on the bench, they had to stand for election. He didn’t even want to think about the hassles involved in that. He just wanted to do his job. It was demanding enough all on its own.
Wyatt was right. Eleanor Barrington Holmes was a force to be reckoned with in the community, and he knew she’d helped raise funds for a number of candidates in the past. She could be a tremendous help to him, if she hadn’t grown too eccentric of late.
“Come on. Lunch with a woman,” Wyatt said. “How hard is that?”
Ashe gave in. “All right. I’ll talk to her one more time.”
That was how he ended up, on a break from court one day, meeting Lilah Ryan at a little restaurant called Malone’s around the corner from the courthouse. He knew almost everyone in the place. They came from the courthouse, because the place was so close, the service was fast and the food wasn’t bad.
It was filled with men and women in conservative dark suits, briefcases on the floor beside them, yellow legal pads in front of them as they talked and jotted down notes, cell phones at the ready. Courthouse people. Lawyers and secretaries. A few clients here and there—he could pick them out by the worried looks on their faces. Most people got a little freaked out when they had to go to court.
And there in the midst of all those somber-colored suits was a single blaze of color. Lilah in a soft, silky, flame-colored sleeveless top and a billowy skirt shot through with the same color and lots of others, red to orange to bright yellow. She had sandals on her feet. Her toes were painted the same color as her top, Ashe noted.
Every man in the place was watching her, he realized. Heads kept turning away from legal briefs and legal pads, colleagues and clients, toward her and back again. Clearly, Ashe should have picked another spot for lunch.
Lilah looked up, spotted Ashe, then lifted a hand with flame-colored fingernails and waved. About a half-dozen multi-colored bracelets jangled on her wrist.
He could feel the heads turn from her over to him, see the double takes.
Judge Ashford and the hippie lady?
He made his way to her, stopping along the way to acknowledge friends and colleagues who greeted him with slight smiles, respectful nods of their heads and things like, “Afternoon, Judge.”
People respected him here.
He liked that.
He planned to keep it that way.
Ashe got to Lilah’s table. She stood and held out her hand, bracelets jangling, and he shook it briefly, waited for her to sit, then sat himself.
“Thank you for taking the time to talk to me,” she said. “I wasn’t sure you would, but Eleanor insisted no one but you would do for my classes.”
He was at a loss. “I can’t imagine why. I hardly know her, except for introductions at a charity event here and there. I’m just Wyatt’s friend. He’s Kathleen’s grandson-in-law. He said you might remember him from when you two were children.”
Lilah nodded. “Wyatt the wild man? I think he tried to look up my skirt one day on the playground at school when I was six or seven. Or maybe he was the one who dared his friends to do it.”
“That sounds like Wyatt,” Ashe agreed.
“Is he really married to Kathleen’s granddaughter?”
“Yes.”
“Happily? I’m so curious about her, but I haven’t met her yet. Kathleen said she’s written a book—financial advice for women—that’s coming out soon, and she’s busy getting ready to leave on a book tour. But the idea of the Wyatt I knew being happily married …”
“Well …” Ashe shrugged. What could he say? He had a hard time believing it, too, and he wasn’t the only one. He finally settled for saying, “They haven’t been married long.”
“Hmm. Kathleen and Gladdy believe he’s the perfect husband. I would think Eleanor knows better, living in this town as long as she has. But she doesn’t say anything when they start talking about how wonderful Wyatt is. I’m starting to worry about all of them. That they might be … you know, not quite all there mentally. Which is such a shame. They seem so nice. A little pushy, a little nosy, but nice.”
No arguments with that assessment from Ashe.
“I know Wyatt worries about them. And watches over them quite closely,” Ashe added, thinking maybe that would be enough to warn this woman off, if she had any thoughts of taking advantage of some nice, not-quite-there-mentally older women.
“Good,” Lilah agreed. “I think someone needs to be watching out for them.”
Okay, she was either sincere or she was playing him.
He really couldn’t tell, despite what he’d always considered to be really good instincts and people-reading skills.
The waitress arrived. Ashe knew what he wanted and asked if Lilah did as well, telling her they should really go ahead and order, because he didn’t have that long before he had to be back in court. She glanced at the menu for all of fifteen seconds and settled on the soup and sandwich special of the day.
The woman got points for being able to make up her mind quickly. So many couldn’t, he had found. And she got points for being … not so outrageous today. Maybe this wasn’t going to be as much of a chore as he feared.
