Bougainvillea (11 page)

“Seamus, you're acting as if we're snobby and catty, and we're not, not at all. We like to contribute to the community, and you're the one who taught me that, father-in-law dear!” Lenore said. Her voice was light, filled with affection. Kit thought it sounded false.

But she smiled to herself and accompanied Lenore downstairs, and smiled her way pleasantly through all the introductions. She had just met the head of the opera guild and listened to a long bemoaning of the lack of real supporters for the ultimate art when David slipped his arm around her. “Jean! Great to see you, I'm so glad that you could come. I see that you've met Kit. Will you excuse us? Seamus wants Kit to meet a racing friend.”

Kit murmured something appropriate; Jean of the opera sadly watched them move on.

“Who am I meeting?” Kit asked.

“No one—we're escaping,” he told her with a grin.

He moved faster and faster, leading her through the crowd, and then down a path that led to some dense foliage.

By then, it was growing dark. Kit laughed. “Where are we going?”

“Back way—to our own home!” he told her.

A few minutes later, they were bursting through pines and crotons to a tiled and pillared porch, then through glass doors to a high-ceilinged rec room, complete with billiards and an entertainment center compatible to that in the main house. Ship models handsomely adorned panelled walls. Collector pieces, old swords, antique guns, African and Caribbean art were displayed on various shelves. Kit stopped dead still for a moment,
looking around, realizing that the items actually represented a world she didn't share with her husband.

A meow and a brush of fur against her leg suddenly reminded Kit that she had brought a piece of her own home with her.

“Whitney!” she cried, and scooped him up. He purred happily. “Poor thing. The flight was traumatic, I think.”

David took the cat from her. “Believe me, Lenore hires the most efficient help in the state. He's been fed and watered, and I'm sure he's making himself quite happy here. Actually, too bad we don't live in the main house. Both Lenore and Kaitlin hate cats.”

“David, that's mean!”

“To the cat or the two witches?”

She laughed. “You don't like them very much, huh?”

He shrugged. “They're like family—I guess. Therefore, I get to call them witches. Or worse.”

He set the cat down.

“Question,” he said, moving close to her. “Want to see more of my place first—or of me?”

She smiled slowly. “Hmm.”

“Well?” he persisted.

“Question.”

“Yes?”

“Does that mean you're eager to see more of me, now that we're alone?” she demanded.

“You bet.”

She laughed softly, curling her arms around his neck.

He'd carried her over the threshold of their over-the-top hotel room in Vegas. Now he swept her up again, dramatically romantic. Her foot banged against the wall as he walked up the steps.

“Ouch!”

“Well, that kind of ruined the moment, didn't it?” he inquired dryly. “Maybe not…we'll reach my room
—our
room—and start with the foot.”

“Kinky.”

“The foot is attached to the ankle.”

“Ankle fetish. Great.”

“Is attached to the calf. Calf to the knee, knee to the thigh…when we get there,” he drawled lazily, “I'll explain completely just what's attached to what.”

He did just that. Touch, kiss, and caress her, from her feet, to her ankle, calf, knee, and thigh on up. Kit found herself amazed again at the extent of urgent passion he could arouse in her, and the euphoria that followed. Then laughter as well, and talk, and making love all over again.

They never said goodbye to the many guests at the party. It was into the wee hours of the morning when she finally explored her new home, and with it, learned much about her husband, his love for the sea, and his photographs.

They stayed awake to admire the sunrise, an event she could watch every morning from bed.

Her life, it seemed, was too good to be true. Yet for her first several weeks at Bougainvillea, it stayed the same.

David showed her Sea Life's construction facilities in Coconut Grove, and she met his friends and the many people employed by Sea Life. She lunched with him, Josh and Michael, at the little marina café where apparently they went almost daily at noon. Lenore brought her around town, showing her theaters, galleries and a zillion shops where the Delaneys were esteemed clients.
Kaitlin gave her lists of the places they used for home services, and showed her some of the local boutiques she thought Kit should know.

On one of those occasions, Kit was startled to realize that Kaitlin definitely bore her own memories of the past, and they certainly weren't all good.

It was a Wednesday afternoon and they had gone down to Cocowalk to shop. Kit was trying on a halter dress in a blue flowered pattern and came out of the dressing room to ask Kaitlin's opinion.

She was startled by the way the woman stared at her.

“What is it?”

Kaitlin shook her head. “I really don't like it. Not at all.”

Frowning, Kit turned to look in the mirror. She loved the color. And she loved the dress. It seemed to enhance her figure, and bring out the depths of her eyes. She really believed that David would love it.

Kit turned to Kaitlin. “What's wrong with it?” she asked carefully.

“It's just wrong, all wrong,” Kaitlin told her.

“But—”

“If you must know, it makes you look too much like Marina. And that doesn't make us all feel comfortable, I'm sorry to say!”

Angry, Kaitlin walked out of the shop. Kit watched her go, then quickly changed. In spite of Kaitlin, she bought the dress. She'd make sure she wore it when she and David went out, and not around Bougainvillea.

Kaitlin was quiet all the way home. Kit tried to tell herself she was imagining the waves of pure hostility that seemed to roll off of her.

“Kaitlin,” Kit told her, as they returned to the
compound. “You know, you're definitely not obligated to be in my company.”

Kaitlin stared at her, startled that she had been so transparent. Then she looked ahead, over the steering wheel. “Sorry. Honestly.” She stared at Kit again. “In truth, there is a lot of resentment going on. Did I want you here? No. But you are here. So…we need to get along.”

“Like I said,” Kit told her, getting out of the car, “you're not required to show me around.”

She felt uncomfortable when she returned to the main house that afternoon, but as usual Seamus was waiting for them, wanting always to chat with Kit.

Other than her experience with Kaitlin, Kit found that her days were almost idyllic.

Shelley picked her up a few times after work, and they explored malls and saw a few movies. Shelley was great, helping her to remember many little things about the place and her childhood.

Then there were Martin and Eli.

Eli worked long hours as a cop, but he was always fun when he was around.

Martin was often at his own home, rigging his fishing gear. He was always glad to see Kit if she walked over. He'd tell her about some of the parties that used to be held at Bougainvillea, and how other women had hated Marina sometimes just because she had been so darned beautiful.

“Now Lenore, I think that she wanted to be a decent human being, but maybe forgot how. She got too caught up in being the first lady of Bougainvillea. She wasn't terribly fond of Marina, because Marina, of course, was a threat. And Kaitlin. Well, you've noticed, she's pretty
darned exotic.” He winked. “I think she always thought David would marry her one day. But David never considered her as a love interest, so don't you go worrying. There's a chip on that girl's shoulder.” He laughed. “Okay, so she didn't like your mom, either. But you, you just hold your own and thumb your nose at them. Seamus has been pining for you to come back for years. And David—well, he was kind of the cream of the Sea Life crop, you know what I mean? You two will be fine. Just hunker down and bear with the sharks!”

Martin always tried to make her feel better and more welcome, so it seemed. He also seemed to delight in his amusement with the foibles of the Delaney family.

“What did you feel about my mother?” Kit asked him frankly one day.

He hesitated. “Honestly? She was beautiful. And seductive. She could be charming and sweet. She could be hell on wheels, making everyone around her miserable. She was human, and quite a character. But she loved you. And in the end, she loved your father.”

“In the end?”

“Well, she liked to flirt,” he said uneasily. “But, like I said, she loved your father.”

He wouldn't continue. Kit left soon after their conversation, a light feeling of dread threading its way through her heart.

* * *

David had come home early that day, eager to see Kit.

He knew that Seamus was in seventh heaven, where he should have been himself.

He was.

Except that he couldn't quite shake an uneasy feeling.

Kit wasn't at the cottage when he first came home. He turned on the stereo and stretched out on the sofa, wondering where she was. Although Kit hadn't said anything, he had the feeling that she was sometimes uncomfortable being there.

So we should get the hell out,
he thought.

Marina Delaney had been dead a very long time. And yet, with Kit here, it seemed as if people were remembering her as if she had died only yesterday.

And it was true…

A trick of light, and she might have been her mother,
returned,
in the flesh.

It had all been so long ago, and yet, he knew bits and pieces of what had gone on. Marina knew about all the deep dark Delaney family secrets. Were they really so secret, though? Most of the dirt on the family could be easily uncovered.

Most of the scandals had to do with Seamus and what had once been his philandering days. But who the hell cared anymore?

People only cared when it affected them.

And still…

Why this constant feeling of unease?

Because of what Kit might discover? Because of the cataclysm that might be caused by her return?

The door opened, and he straightened, looking toward it. Kit was home. “David?”

“I'm here.”

She rushed over to the sofa, bounding on top of him, grinning beautifully from ear to ear. She had something
Marina had never possessed: a natural love of people, and of life. He touched her hair, smoothing it back, amazed that she was his.

“You're early,” she whispered.

“I needed to be home. I'm a newlywed, you know.”

“And I wasn't here!” she said.

“Chatting away the hours with old Seamus?” he asked gruffly.

She laughed. “No, getting the spin from old Martin next door,” she told him.

He watched her carefully for a moment. “You're happy here?”

“You bet.”

“Despite the dragon queens up at the big house?” he demanded.

She laughed. “They're not so bad beneath the surface.”

He tightened his arms around her. “I was thinking we should leave, find our own place.”

She drew away. “Not…not now, David. It would hurt Seamus too deeply, I think. Besides,” she said, and a low, sensual quality crept into her tone as she lowered closer to him again, “we
are
alone, all alone…here. Now.”

He laughed. It was an invitation if he had ever heard one.

“There is the cat, you know,” he reminded her primly.

“Ah, that's why the good Lord invented doors.”

He swept her up dramatically, and started for the stairs. In a few moments, it didn't matter where they were.

They had created their own private heaven.

And it wasn't until hours later that he lay at her side, feeling the unease again, and remembering his own relationship with Marina Delaney.

* * *

Kit hadn't been there a full two weeks before David had workmen arriving at their cottage, determined to make space in one of the extra bedrooms into a perfect artist's studio for Kit. She became involved in the planning herself, and the days passed quickly.

Jen called frequently, and Kit kept her up to date.

And every night, she lay in David's arms, amazed that her depth of passion and love for him could continue to grow and become ever stronger.

It was the night he wound up not coming home—stranded down in the Keys because of an auto accident on US1, that the perfect tapestry of her new life began to unravel.

It began when she found the cat at the rear door to their cottage, stiff and cold and dead as a doornail.

D
evastated, Kit cradled Whitney and strode purposely to the main house, entering with her beloved pet. The compound lights gleamed around the lagoon, but they were soft, and shadows from the foliage edging the path and beachfront fell heavily all around her. She took no notice of them.

They were gathered in the family room, where the wide-screen television was showing something done by the History Channel. Kaitlin, Lenore, Michael, and Josh were there, all engrossed in the show. But when Kit entered, carrying her dead pet, Michael instantly turned the volume down and sprang to his feet. “Kit! What happened? He didn't wander off the property and get hit, did he?”

She shook her head, tears in her eyes, staring at them all. “There's nothing wrong with him at all,” she began.

“Dead does seem to be wrong,” Kaitlin told her drolly.

She flashed the woman a furious glance. “He hasn't been hit by anything. There's not a mark on him. He's just dead and stiff. I'd say he'd been poisoned.”

“Good heavens, dear! Are you suggesting that one of us would poison your cat?” Lenore said indignantly.

“No, but I'd like to know what did happen,” Kit said, wondering if she
had
come ready to accuse one of the “witches” of killing her cat.