Kane (5 page)

“Oh, I don't think—”

“Nonsense! Everybody needs a little pick-me-up this time of morning.” The older woman reached for the door handle and pulled it open, rattling on in the easy manner of someone who loved to talk. “I understand you're interested in his grandmother's old jewelry. I can tell you about a great many of the pieces, where they came from, whom they belonged to—more so than Mr. Lewis can, I daresay. His wife, Miss Mary Sue, was a good friend of my mother's, and Kane's mother, Donna, and I played together as girls long before we became sisters-in-law. We were sometimes allowed to dress up in Miss Mary Sue's jewels, under strict supervision, of course. Come now, I simply won't take no for an answer.”

It was impossible to resist that gently persistent urging. In any case, Regina wasn't sure she wanted to try. The house intrigued her with its aged grandeur. Kane's aunt was as charming as she was talkative. And it hardly seemed Kane would be likely to throw her down in the living room or anywhere else with the older woman on the premises.

She really had misjudged him. She hoped he didn't realize how much, but suspected he had sent his aunt because he understood her feelings only too well.

Why was he being so nice to her? she wondered. Was this the famous Southern hospitality everybody talked about, or something extra? What was he after with his kindness and questioning? What did he hope to gain when he had no idea who she was or why she was in Turn-Coupe?

At least, she hoped he had none.

She shouldn't be here, she thought as she climbed the steps to the front door and stepped into the long central hall that stretched through the house to French doors at the far end. She should be in town making as nice as possible to Lewis Crompton instead of riding around the countryside with his grandson. It had been ridiculous to let herself be distracted and more stupid still to think she was going to get anything from a lawyer.

For all she knew, the elaborate schedule Kane had given for his grandfather might have been a fabrication, and the old gentleman was wondering where she was and why she hadn't contacted him this morning. She should insist that Kane take her straight back to the motel, then call Crompton at the funeral home.
Yes, that was exactly what she should do at the first opportunity.

With that plan in mind, Regina felt better. She was even able to relax a little as she was led into the back wing of the house and seated in a bright breakfast room done in shades of fresh green and located just off an expansive country kitchen. The spicy aroma of the fig cake filled the air. The piece put on her plate was thick, moist, studded with pieces of dark and sweet preserved fruit, and glazed with a warm caramel sauce rich with pecans. The china it was served on was eggshell-thin Old Paris, the napkin beside it starched damask, and the fork she was handed ornate and heavy sterling. Against her will, Regina was impressed.

She was out of her depth.

“This is very nice,” she said, “but I thought Kane was only going to be a minute.”

“You like the cake? It's a recipe I'm developing for
Southern Living Magazine.
”

“They pay you?”

“No, no, it's just something to keep my mind occupied, though my waistline would be in better shape if I'd pick another hobby. As for Kane, you'll have to forgive him, my dear. He had a couple of calls to return—he's so busy these days.” The older woman brought her own cake and coffee and seated herself opposite Regina.

Regina watched Kane's aunt a moment. She was a little plump maybe, but had fine eyes and gracefully molded facial features. Though she joked about her appearance, it was obvious it didn't bother her; she had absolutely none of the air of an aging female
straining after her youth. Her dress of cotton knit in a vivid teal was generously cut and the same color as her eyes. The smile with which she returned Regina's gaze was open and serene. It was also a little quizzical.

“I…It's very kind of you to take pity on me,” Regina said, looking down at her plate and picking up her fork to cut into her cake.

“Actually,” Vivian Benedict said, “I had an ulterior motive, or perhaps I should be honest and admit it was vulgar curiosity. I spoke to Mr. Lewis this morning, you see, and he told me about the incident yesterday with the old coffin.”

“Oh.” Regina's mouth was suddenly too dry to chew the bite of warm, moist and delicious cake that she'd just taken.

“Just so,” the other woman said with a wry smile. “I didn't tell Kane I knew, of course.”

Regina gave her an inquiring look.

“Why didn't I? To be honest, I wanted to see if he'd tell me. The explanation should be entertaining, or so I thought.”

Regina swallowed before she said, “That might depend on your point of view.”

“You don't think it's funny, then,” Vivian said. “Perhaps I misunderstood the situation.”

“It was just…embarrassing.”

“Oh. Yes, I see how it might have been. Knowing Kane, I doubt he made it any easier.”

Regina murmured something noncommittal, unable to correct the impression, but doubtful about agreeing.

Laughter sprang into the other woman's eyes. “I may have brought Kane up, my dear, but I have few illusions about him. He's a rascal, like both his father
and his uncle, my late husband. I had my hands full with that boy, I can tell you, after his parents were killed.”

“Killed?”

“Drowned, I should say, in a freak accident while deep-sea fishing off Grand Isle. Kane had stayed behind with me that weekend since he was only ten and recovering from the measles, and both our families lived here together in this monstrosity of a house. Afterward, we just kept on, my husband, Kane and I, and I feel blessed to have been allowed to do that since my John and I never had children.”

“He was lucky to have you,” Regina said, thinking of her own experience with being left when her parents were gone.

“Maybe, but you can see why he feels so strongly about the family he has left, particularly his grandfather. Also why he's so protective.”

“I suppose,” Regina said dubiously. “He was certainly suspicious of me.”

Vivian Benedict pursed her lips, then sighed. “I'm afraid he has little faith in women except those who are related to him. He was engaged to a local girl a few years back, Francie, a blond beauty queen. But her mother was one of these women who live and breathe beauty contests, modeling, Hollywood gossip, and so on. She filled Francie's head with big ideas. Her junior year in college, Francie dropped out of school and went off to New Orleans for a job at some television studio. After a few weeks, she called Kane and told him she was in terrible pain with an ectopic pregnancy and needed emergency surgery that was going to cost five thousand dollars. She'd lost her job,
had no insurance, she said, and her mother wouldn't help because she thought it was Kane's responsibility. Kane drove down at once with the money, which he could ill afford since he'd just started his legal practice. He wanted to stay for the surgery, but Francie said no. Her mother would be with her and was furious with Kane and would likely cause a big scene if she saw him. Later, Francie called again and said there had been complications and she needed another ten thousand.” Vivian Benedict shook her head slowly as she held Regina's gaze. “I suppose you can guess where this is going?”

“It was all a lie,” Regina said, her voice taut.

“Exactly. When Kane insisted on contacting the hospital, Francie wouldn't tell him where she had been, wouldn't name the doctor. It was only when Kane began to talk about legal action against whatever quack she'd seen that the truth came out. There had never been a pregnancy, ectopic or otherwise. The money was to have gone to finance a trip to Los Angeles.”

“Unbelievable.”

“Kane has never said much about it, but it hit him hard. He loved Francie, or thought he did. He had given her his promise and his ring and fully intended to marry her when she was ready to settle down. Family and children have always meant a lot to him. To use something so personal and intimate as the promise of a child to extort money from him—well, he was never quite the same toward women afterward.”

“It seems unfair to blame all females for what one did to him.”

His aunt lifted a shoulder. “Most men take that kind of thing badly.”

“Even those with a nickname like Sugar Kane?”

As Regina spoke, it occurred to her that she wasn't so different from Kane. She mistrusted men because of what one had done to her, didn't she? Strange that she had never considered it in quite that light before. Commonality with Kane, however, was the last thing she needed to feel at this moment.

“You're thinking there must have been times when the shoe was on the other foot?” his aunt asked. “Oh, Kane was a little wild, and he certainly loved the ladies, but he was never heartless or careless. Even when Francie first said she was pregnant, he had doubts because he had done his best to make sure it didn't happen.”

“Always in control,” Regina murmured.

Vivian stared at her a moment. “I see he has his work cut out for him with you.”

“Hardly,” she replied with dry humor. “I won't be here that long.”

“We'll see,” Kane's aunt said, and smiled.

There was no answer for that. Regina ate the last of her cake and complimented her hostess on it as she pushed her plate aside. Vivian got up to refill their cups, then sat back down again. Regina brushed away a drop of coffee that had landed on her saucer's porcelain rim before she spoke again.

“So what can you tell me about the Crompton jewelry? I'm fascinated since there are some truly exquisite pieces in the collection.”

“Most are Victorian since that was Miss Mary Sue's preference. Mr. Lewis always called it his wife's
collection, but he gave most of it to her, you know, over nearly forty years of marriage. They used to scour the antique shops back when the pieces were plentiful and few cared much about them. His wife adored dressing up, and she and Mr. Lewis often went down to New Orleans for the opera and the symphony. They were active on the country club and political circuits in town, too. She wore the pieces often, so they are a potent reminder of the past to Mr. Lewis.”

“I wonder why he chose to sell,” Regina offered carefully.

“There may be a connection with the suit, as Kane thinks, but it could also mean he's letting go because he's getting serious about his lady friend, Miss Elise, after all these years.”

Seeing a chance to segue into a subject of greater interest to her, Regina said, “From all appearances, Crompton's Funeral Home has been around a long time.”

“Appearances being, primarily, the age of the coffin in Mr. Lewis's parlor?” the other woman said with a quick laugh. “I'd have really loved to have seen his face when he opened the lid and saw you two. He's always saying he keeps that thing on hand in case of an emergency, but I don't think that's exactly what he had in mind.”

“I should hope not,” Regina returned, then added, “No longer than I've known him, I can just hear him saying something like that.”

“You'd better believe it. Black humor more or less goes with the job, you know.”

“I imagine it might be necessary, a form of relief.”

Vivian Benedict agreed. “Human beings aren't al
ways at their best in times of grief. The tales Mr. Lewis could tell if he just would! I've seen him shake his head a thousand times over families and how they come to blows or hair pulling over the simplest things, such as whether to have singing at the funeral, or their loved one's favorite color. And, of course, the very worst arguments are always about money. You know, who's going to pay and who will inherit.”

“I'd imagine the skeletons sometimes rattle in the background, too.” Regina, listening to her own voice, was amazed at its lightness.

“It can be interesting who shows up for the service,” Kane's aunt agreed. “At the service for an elderly woman who died not long ago, who should walk through the chapel door except her arch enemy? They'd had words decades ago over a tree on their joint property line and had carried on a running battle about it ever since. But it seems the old dear was really broken up about the death of her adversary, that their feud was what kept her alive At any rate, she died herself a short time later.”

“People do get irate over property and money,” Regina observed encouragingly as she swirled the dregs at the bottom of her coffee cup.

“That's certainly so. Another tale that went around was about the Widow Landry who had been married to an old skinflint. After the funeral, she searched high and low for the money he'd been squirreling away for years, but couldn't find it anywhere. So she had him disinterred, and there it was, sewn into the lining of his suit.”

“He tried to take it with him.” Regina laughed as she spoke; she couldn't help it.

“And almost succeeded, though I think, considering the state of it, I might have let him have it!”

“I should think so,” Regina agreed, wrinkling her nose and shaking her head so that wisps of red hair, curling from the humidity, went flying around her face.

“You two sound positively ghoulish,” Kane commented as he strolled into the room and headed for the coffeepot. His gaze lingered on her hair several seconds before he went on. “I might have expected it from you, Aunt Vivian, as one of the hazards of living with an undertaker's kin, but I'm surprised at Regina.”

“She's very polite and has a well-developed sense of the ridiculous,” his aunt said, her expression amused yet loving, as she held her nephew's gaze. “Unlike some I know.”

He laughed. “You think I need a personality adjustment, too? I expect that's something else you and Regina can agree on.”

His aunt protested, and the banter, humorous and saying next to nothing, continued until he and Regina left the house. There were no further chances for questions or probing. She might almost have thought it was deliberate if she wanted to be paranoid. But that would mean Kane had guessed she was searching out information, and that was impossible.