“Local history, right?” Travis asked. When Kim nodded, he raised her hand and kissed it. “Jewelry store last? To be savored?”
“Exactly,” she said.
In the bookstore Kim was glad to see that Travis didn’t mind going through boxes that had twenty years of dust coating them and digging for out-of-print books and local pamphlets. He found a cookbook put together in the twenties by the women of a local church.
They looked through it, saw there was no contributor named Janes, so Kim said it was no use to them. But Travis said a person never knew when relatives were going to turn up. Kim started to ask what he meant by that but he’d walked away.
He talked with the shop owner while Kim went through the shelves of books on the history of jewelry. She chose a big one on Peter Carl Fabergé.
They left the store with a box full of books, and Travis put them in the Jeep he’d commandeered from Russell.
“Do you think he walked?”
“Who?” Travis asked.
“Russell. You left him there at the Old Mill without transportation. Do you think he walked to . . . to wherever he went?”
“Probably called Penny and she picked him up,” Travis said.
“So how long has she worked for you?” They were crossing the street again.
“Since I started at my dad’s.”
“And your father let her go so she could work for
you
?”
“Why all these questions?”
“I’m just trying to find out about your life, that’s all.”
He paused in front of a little shop that had some very pretty clothes in the window. “When my dad rooked me into working for him, Penny said she was going to help me. Dad didn’t want to let her go, but she threatened to quit if he didn’t, and since she knows more about the business than he does, he couldn’t allow that.”
“Why was she so adamant about working for you?”
“Felt sorry for me, I guess. I’d just come from Hollywood and my way of handling things was physical. I had trouble even remembering my law training.”
“But Mrs. Pendergast took you under her wing and mothered you?”
Travis snorted. “She kicked me fifty times a day. Made me think. Made me put my anger at my father aside enough so that I could do the job. That first year was hell. Do you like that?”
“That your first year was bad?”
“No. I mean that shirt. Those pants. I think you’d look good in them.”
“And trying them on would stop me from interrogating you, wouldn’t it?”
“I never want to go against you in a courtroom.” His hand was on her back as he urged her toward the doorway.
They spent two hours going from one store to another. For all that Travis had said he didn’t like such things, he was a dream to shop with. He sat down and waited while Kim tried on clothes, and he gave his opinion on each one.
But for all that he seemed to give his full attention to her, twice he was on his phone, and each time he erased a frown when he saw her. She asked what was going on.
“Closing up business. You ready for lunch?”
As Kim turned away, she was reminded of all that was still facing them, especially the court case for the divorce. “Sure,” she said as Travis opened the door for her.
But as soon as they were outside, his phone rang again. “Damn!” he muttered as he looked at it. “It’s Penny. I . . .” He looked at Kim in question.
“Take it,” she said. “I’ll meet you at the diner.” But she saw a flash of movement in the window of an antiques shop across the road. It was Mrs. Pendergast’s arm, and she was waving at Kim, a phone to her ear.
Kim looked at Travis’s back, then at Mrs. Pendergast. She was motioning for Kim to come to the store. They
did
need to talk.
“Thirty minutes, the diner,” Kim said to Travis, and he nodded as he frowned at the call, and Kim hurried across the road.
Joe Layton took
a couple of deep breaths as he picked up the phone receiver in his office. He was a believer in land lines. Their connections were better, less likely to fade out, and since the call he was about to make would change his—and Lucy’s—life, he wanted to hear every word.
It had been simple to get the number of the headquarters of Maxwell Industries, but getting the man himself on the phone wasn’t going to be easy. Joe thought maybe he’d tell whoever answered the phone that it was a matter of life and death. That way he’d keep the truth between him and Maxwell. But the snooty woman who was at the end of the line of a long succession of secretaries brought out the truth in Joe.
“You can’t just call and expect to speak directly to Mr. Maxwell.” Her tone was patronizing, but at the same time amused. It was obvious that she saw herself as Big City while Joe was Country Bumpkin.
Joe was fed up with all of them. “Tell him I’m the man who wants to marry his wife.”
The secretary was silent for a moment, then her tone changed to brisk efficiency. “I’ll see if he’s available.”
It was only moments before Randall Maxwell was on the line. “So you’re Joe Layton.”
“Looks like nobody’s kept a secret from you,” Joe said.
“Not if I want to know what’s going on, they can’t. So what’s Lucy up to now?”
“I want to settle this thing between you and me.”
“By ‘thing’ do you mean a divorce?” Randall asked.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“Layton, you weren’t born yesterday,” Randall snapped in a voice that often intimidated people. “There’s more involved in this than just a few grand.”
Joe wasn’t intimidated in the least. “Keep your money,” Joe growled. “Keep every goddamn cent of it.”
“That’s an interesting concept. What about the money she stole from me?”
“You mean the money you so conveniently left for her to find?”
Randall chuckled. “Lucy always did like clever men.”
Joe didn’t answer. When Lucy told him about “accidently” seeing her husband’s laptop with his online banking account left wide open, Joe knew Maxwell had meant for her to see it. Lucy said there was five million in the account and she took three and a half. Joe admired her restraint. She spoke of how unusual it had been for Randall to leave his laptop where she could see it. “He must have been under a lot of stress.” There was guilt in her voice, showing that she felt bad for what she’d done. The idea that half of what Randall Maxwell owned was hers didn’t seem to have entered her mind.
If Maxwell had purposefully left the account open, he’d done it for a reason. If Lucy were a different kind of woman Joe would have thought that Maxwell suspected her of seeing other men and that he wanted to know where she went when she had money. But as Joe heard more of Lucy’s story, he thought it was possible that Maxwell was giving his wife freedom.
Maybe Maxwell thought he’d failed with his son, so he no longer needed to use Lucy to hold Travis to him. If Joe knew anything in life it was the pleasure/pain you got from your family. He loved his son with all his heart, but there were times when the boy’s wife made Joe want to disown him.
“So how’s Travis?” Randall asked into the silence.
There was a soft undertone in his voice that told Joe a lot. Maxwell loved his son very much. “He’s a good kid,” Joe said. “You raised him right.”
It was Randall’s turn for a moment of silence. “Lucy can keep the money and I’ll give her a divorce—and I’ll be fair with her.”
Joe drew in his breath. “If by that you mean you’ll give her more millions,
don’t
! Save it for Travis—and your other kid that I’ve been seeing around town. Seems his mother is your former secretary. Must have been convenient for you.”
Randall laughed. “Layton, you ever want a job with me, you got it.”
“No thanks,” Joe said, but he was grinning as he hung up.
“So what questions
do you have for me?” Penny asked Kim.
They were sitting at a rusty old table outside the back of the antiques store. There was a tall wooden fence on three sides, and leaning against it were dozens of old metal advertising signs. The Mobil Pegasus was directly behind Penny’s perfectly coiffed head.
The first thing Kim was aware of was that Mrs. Pendergast had put herself in the position of power. Her chair’s back was facing the fence, a solid barrier, while Kim’s back was to the door and windows of the store, a more vulnerable position. But more important than that, Penny’s words had cast Kim as the one who was to ask the questions and maybe she’d receive answers.
Kim wasn’t falling for it. First, she moved her chair so that she was no longer backed against the openness of the store, then she looked at Penny. “I want you to tell me everything.”
Penny gave a bit of a smile in acknowledgment of what Kim had done, and shrugged.
“Late night, champagne to celebrate a deal, handsome boss, fight with my boyfriend. It all went together to make it happen.”
“And afterward?” Kim asked.
Penny took her time in replying, and Kim doubted that she’d ever told the story before. Mrs. Pendergast didn’t seem to be the type to share intimate details of her life with anyone.
“That wasn’t so easy. I didn’t realize I was pregnant until I was four months along. By that time the boyfriend was gone and besides, Randall was . . .”
“Married.”
“Yes. Married to a woman who couldn’t care less about him or his business, his dreams, or about anything else to do with him.” There was a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“So that makes it all right to jump into bed with him?” Kim asked. She was on Lucy’s side.
“When you get older you’re going to learn that there are always two sides to everything. Lucy married Randall Maxwell because her family pressured her into it. They were an old family, great lineage, but not a cent to their names. Randall supported her parents until their deaths, and he still pays the bills of Lucy’s two lazy brothers.”
Kim looked down at the table for a moment. “Why did he keep Travis so isolated?”
“Randall had a hard childhood. He was very poor and he’s a bit dyslexic. He was bullied in school.”
“So he gave his son tutors and privacy?”
“That’s it,” Penny said.
Kim was silent as she waited for Penny to continue. It was obvious that the older woman didn’t want to go on—or maybe she did. Penny had been the one who set up the meeting, so maybe she was hoping Kim would help smooth the way between Travis and Russell.
“Randall thought he was doing well by his son when he had him homeschooled,” Penny began. She looked down at her hands. “I know you’re friends with Lucy, but . . .”
“I can take the truth, whatever it is.”
“I think that at the beginning Randall believed he was in love with Lucy, but the truth was, he was in love with the idea of a family. He had visions of the two of them conquering the world together. He’d make the money, buy her a magnificent house, and she’d be the hostess who was renowned for her dinner parties. It would be like something out of a magazine.”
“From what I’ve seen of Lucy’s life now, that wouldn’t be for her. She likes to sew and stay with a few close friends.”
“Exactly,” Penny said. “And Randall likes to
work
. And besides, he hates dinner parties. He loved the thought of them, but couldn’t bear the boredom when he was there.”
Kim was beginning to see the whole picture. Two extremely mismatched people married to each other. Lucy bullied by her relatives, almost sold by them, to a man who had a chip on his shoulder and something to prove to the world.
It looked like Travis had been caught in the middle.
“What about you? Where do you come in?” Kim asked.
“I . . .” Penny hesitated. “I’m more like Randall than Lucy. I also grew up poor and was desperate to get out of it. I met Randall at a party. I liked him because he was talking business instead of hitting on the girls. I stood to one side and unabashedly eavesdropped. He was so intent on the deal he was trying to make that I didn’t think he even saw me. But when the other young men got bored and left, Randall turned to me and said, ‘Did you get all that?’ I said, ‘Most of it,’ and told him the numbers. He looked at me for a moment, then asked for my phone number and I gave it to him.”