Jude Deveraux (24 page)

'Come
in,' she said.

She was
sitting in bed, her face washed clean, reading glasses perched on her nose, and
wearing an old, pink nightgown. He didn't think he'd ever seen anything sexier
in his life. She didn't look like a centerfold, but she looked like home, a
place where food was in the oven, clean clothes were in the drawers, and the
bills were paid. She looked like someone who'd wait up for a man when he was
out late. And she'd forgive him when he screwed up. And she'd give him hell at
the same time. She looked like a woman who . . . No, that was it. She looked
like a
woman.
Not a girl, but a woman. He wanted to climb into bed with
her and rest his head on her breast. Then he'd turn and touch her lips with his
own and —

'You
want to get that look off your face, McBride?' Eden said, taking off her
glasses. 'If I scream, all of the FBI will hear me.'

Her
words brought him back to reality. Without asking permission, he sat down on
the end of her bed. 'Did Granville give you a copy of Mrs. Farrington's will?'

'Yes,'
she said coolly. 'It's there in the bottom drawer.' She motioned toward the big
TV cabinet across from the foot of her bed. When he went to it, she said,
'Watch out for snakes.'

'Funny,'
he said, opening the drawer and pulling out the document. It was in a dark blue
folder with Granville's name on it in gold. 'Fancy. Think he sends his stuff
off to New York to be printed?'

When he
looked back at her, she wasn't smiling. 'Okay, sorry,' he said, then sat back
down on the end of her bed. She had to move her foot to keep him from sitting
on it. Quickly, he read the document, then closed it. 'Just as I thought, you
get everything.' He looked at her. 'There were no other relatives?'

Eden
didn't answer but narrowed her eyes at him.

With a
half smile, he got off of her bed. Turning, he put his hands on the iron
footboard. 'Do you really and truly think that Granville is innocent in all
this?'

'Are
you asking me if I think he murdered a woman to get — What exactly
was
his
reason for murdering Ms. Brewster? He didn't get the jewels, and I'm not even
sure she knew they were behind the picture. Only someone familiar with the
house and its furnishings would notice that the necklace had been painted onto
Aunt Hester's scrawny neck.'

'And
Granville said that he'd spent so much time in that hall that he could draw the
wallpaper.'

'If
you're hinting that he might have known, he took a year to find me, so why
didn't he open the painting during that time?'

'Then
what? Try to fence some rocks the size of chicken eggs?'

Eden
threw up her hands. 'So he waited until I got here, then he started courting me
so he could get the jewels. If all he likes about me is the necklace, what's
your
excuse?'

'I like
your left hook,' Jared said, but she didn't smile. He stuck his hands in his
pockets. He knew he should leave. The guys back at the office had probably set
a stopwatch when he'd entered Eden's   bedroom.   But 
Jared   didn't   leave.   'So what are you
reading?'

'I
happen to be earning a living. Remember that part of my life? My publishing
house works on a schedule, and these books need to be edited and returned.'

'So
what's involved in editing a book?' he asked, moving toward her.

'One
step closer and I yell for help,' Eden said calmly. 'Why don't you go back to
your own room now?'

Jared
didn't move. 'Ever hear of a jelly beanie? Cranberry juice, gin, that sort of
thing? Jelly beans in the bottom of the glass.'

'Is
this some form of seduction?'

'Yeah.
I have to get a woman drunk before she'll go to bed with me.'

Eden
looked at him, at his dark eyes and hair, and his statement was so ridiculous
that she smiled. 'Okay, one jelly beanie. I'm so wound up from the excitement
of tonight that I'll be awake all night. So what did you do with the necklace?'

Jared
pulled it out of his pocket and tossed it onto the covers by her hip. 'How
about if you take everything off, put on the necklace, and wait for me?'

'Hold
your breath,' she said, and Jared grinned.

As he
put his hand on the door, he said, 'Honestly, is there anything I can do to
help with those things?' He nodded toward the stack of manuscripts on the
floor.

'One of
them is a spy thriller, and I hate those things. All that techno-jargon bores
me. You wouldn't   want  to  read  
it   and   write  a  report, would you? My
publishing house would love to have an expert's opinion.'

'On one
condition,' he said.

She narrowed
her eyes at him. 'And what is that?'

'That
you let me watch your TV while I read.'

Eden
had to laugh. 'Sure. Just keep the sound down so I can edit.'

'Great!
One jelly beanie and one straight whiskey coming up.'

An hour
later, the manuscripts were on the floor and they were watching their third
episode of
Fawlty Towers
and laughing hilariously. Jared sat on the
chair by the bed and Eden lay propped up in bed on her four fat pillows. It was
well into the wee hours of the morning before Jared said good night and left
the room.

The
ringing of the telephone woke Eden. Groggily, she reached for it without
opening her eyes.

'Mother!'
came her daughter's irate voice. 'I haven't heard from you in more than a
week.'

'I'm sorry,
dear, but I've been very busy.' Eden didn't want to open her eyes, didn't want
to wake up. What in the world had McBride put in that drink last night? Some
secret sedative that made people want to sleep for days? And what had been his
motive? To put her out so he and his fellow agents could go through more of the
house? They probably were embarrassed that they hadn't taken apart all of
Tyrrell Farrington's paintings and looked inside them. Her eyes flew open. If
they were now taking apart those paintings, so help her, she was going to —

'Mother,
are you listening to me?'

'Sorry,
sweetheart,' Eden said guiltily. 'I'm still a little sleepy. What time is it
anyway?'

There
was a long silence on the phone before Melissa said, 'It is ten minutes after
eleven A.M. Mother, are you ill?'

Eden
slowly sat up in the bed, turned on the lamp, glanced at the clock, and saw
that it was indeed midmorning. She didn't think she'd ever slept so late in her
life. But then, single mothers didn't have time to sleep, did they? There was
no husband  to  take  the  kids  out   for
pancakes  so Mom could sleep. 'No, I'm not ill, it's just that it's been
rather hectic since I got here and I guess I was rather tired last night.'

'Hectic?
In Arundel, North Carolina? Mother, I live in New York City. What could be more
hectic than here?'

Being
in the hospital, being investigated by the FBI, having a new job, meeting a
couple of men, Eden wanted to say, but didn't. If Melissa was saying 'Mother'
every other word, then she was upset about something. 'I wasn't comparing
lives. What's wrong?'

'Nothing,'
Melissa said. 'I just called to see how you were. You ran off to take
possession of some old house, and it's only the second time we've ever been
separated, but I didn't hear from you. I was just worried, that's all.'

'So
what's wrong?' Eden repeated. 'And quit lying to me. I'm your mother, remember?
I know you.'

At
that, Melissa burst into tears and began pouring out a long list of complaints.
It seemed that Stuart was working late and Melissa was by herself three nights
a week. When he came home, he was too tired to even be interested in the baby's
kicking. And then there was the kitchen. Stuart had said that they couldn't
afford to eat out every night or even have delivery, so Melissa was supposed to
cook dinner for them. 'I have no idea how to cook,' Melissa said.

Not
that I didn't try to teach you, Eden wanted to say. 'There are cookbooks in the
cabinet over the refrig — '

'I know
where the cookbooks are,' Melissa said tightly. 'Mother, is this going to be
one of those fix-it conversations? I need some help here, not a pep talk.'

Eden
looked at the pile of manuscripts on the floor and knew she should have set her
alarm for six. On the table was the sapphire necklace, and she picked it up.
Was this why some man had swallowed her name? 'I'm sorry,' Eden said. 'I know
that starting a new life alone with your husband is difficult, but — '

'I want
to be with you.'

'Hmmm,'
Eden said, holding the necklace up to the light.

'Mother,
are you listening to me?'

'Yes,
of course I am. It's just that — ' Frowning, Eden held the phone to her
shoulder, got out of bed, and went to the window. She pulled back the curtain,
then raised the blind. Sunlight threatened to pierce her eyesight. 'Damn you,
McBride!' she muttered.

'Bride?'
Melissa said. 'Yes, I know I'm Stuart's bride, but I still have a mother and I
want to be with you when the baby comes.'

Eden
looked at the necklace in the sunlight, turning it over in her hand. She'd once
worked in a jewelry store and she'd seen some nice jewels. There was something
wrong with this necklace. Was it just the old setting, or was it something
else?

'Mother,
did you hear what I said? If I get there tomorrow will you meet me at the train
station?'

'Train?'
Eden said distractedly. 'Honey, there's no train here, except for freight
trains, that is.'

She put
the necklace down on the windowsill, took a breath., and gave her attention to
her daughter. 'Listen, sweetheart, I know that being pregnant is difficult, but
you have Stuart now, and I think — '

'You
don't have to tell me what you think,' Melissa said quickly. 'I know that your
pregnancy was hell and I know that
you
were alone. And I know that
having me has ruined your life.'

'Melissa!
What a thing to say! You've always been the best part of my life, and I've told
you that often.'

'Then
why did you abandon me now when I need you so very much?'

Eden
ran her hand over her eyes. 'I didn't abandon you. You and Stuart were very
excited to be on your own, remember? When I left, you were planning all the
redecorating you were going to do.'

'That's
what I thought was going to happen, but it didn't. Stuart said we can't afford
to do any decorating now that he has to pay for the whole apartment. You know
what he said to me?'

Eden
could smell food. The delightful aroma was wafting up the stairs and coming in
under her door. She walked across the room, opened the door, and inhaled
deeply. What in the world was McBride cooking this morning? 'What did Stuart
say to you?'

'He
said that I should go downtown to one of those ragtag flea markets and get old,
used furniture and refinish it.
Like you did!
Can you imagine that? Here
I am, pregnant with
his
child, and he wants me to drive downtown, waddle
through a bunch of dirty flea markets, and haul furniture back on top of your
old station wagon. Have you ever heard of anything so impossible? Is that how a
pregnant woman
should
be treated?'

Eden
had a flash of her own pregnancy. Before she'd met Mrs. Farrington she'd gone
without food for days at a time. After she met Mrs. Farrington, she'd been so
scared she'd lose the job that she'd hauled huge boxes down from the attic by
herself. She remembered one time when the dust made her sneeze eleven times in
a row. 'No, that's not how a pregnant woman should be treated,' Eden said
dutifully.

'Mother,
am I boring you?'

'No, of
course not.' She heard McBride on the stairs; she knew his step.

'Food's
on,' he called. 'You haven't lived until you've tasted my strawberry muffins.'

'Be
right there,' Eden called back, her hand over the phone. She put it back to her
ear.

'Mother,
was that a man?' Melissa's voice was a combination of disbelief and
disapproval.

'Yes,
it was, but — '

'What
is a man doing in your house at this hour of the morning?'

'Melissa,
please don't sound like a prude, and besides, it's nearly time for lunch,
remember?'

'I
remember that when I called you this morning, I woke you up. Mother, did you
spend the night with that man?'

Eden
grit her teeth. 'Melissa, darling, my dearest daughter, that is none of your
business. Now, if you can't talk to me in a civil manner, I suggest we cut this
off. I also suggest that you make up to your husband and stop putting me
between the two of you. And as for your visiting, might I remind you that
you're a bit far along in your pregnancy to be taking long trips. Now, why
don't you take a nice hot bath, then look through those cookbooks and make your
husband a nice dinner? I'll call you when I can.'

With
that, Eden hung up. For about thirty seconds she felt great, like something out
of a self-help book about standing up to your children. When Eden said she was
leaving New York, Melissa had turned against her mother and chosen her
husband's side — which she should have done. Eden again felt the hurt of it
all, how her daughter and Stuart had been so glad when Eden told them she was
moving out.

But her
elation, her self-righteousness, and her did-the-right-thing vibes didn't
survive a full minute. The next second Eden slumped down onto the chair, put
her hands over her eyes, and started crying. She'd just told off her child, her
daughter who she'd been with since she was born. Her daughter was now having
her own child and was alone with a man Eden didn't like, and her mother had
abandoned her. Should she have told Melissa to come here to Arundel? And get
mixed up in some mistake with the FBI?

'Anything
I can do to help?' came a soft voice from the doorway.

As Eden
wiped her eyes with the back of her hand, Jared handed her a tissue. 'Thanks,' she
murmured.

'That
was your kid on the phone?'

'Yes,'
Eden said, blowing her nose. 'My grown-up child now thinks I have abandoned
her. And oh, yes, I'm a slut.'

'You?
You make nuns look promiscuous.'

'I do
not!' Eden said, sniffing.

'Sure you
do. Last night I gave you my best seduction drink. If you knew how many women
that drink has worked on . . . Well, maybe I shouldn't tell the total number,
but I can tell you that it works. But not on you.'

In
spite of herself, Eden laughed. But in the next moment she looked down at her
hands and her smile left her. 'This isn't serious, is it? I mean, about the
argument with my daughter.'

'I
don't have kids, but my guess is that it's not. And I think that what you said
to her was the right thing. Okay, so maybe I was eavesdropping a little bit.
Professional habit. But I think you were right on the money. If she runs home
to Mom every time she has a fight with Hubby, she'll never learn.'

'But
Stuart, her husband ... I can't stand him.'

'He was
a new husband and living with a mother-in-law who'd made a success of herself
in spite of all that life had done to her. Do you know what usually happens to
girls who get pregnant at seventeen?'

'Yes,
of course I do, but I had help. I had Mrs. Harrington.'

'Do you
think she would have kept you if you hadn't worked yourself to the bone for
her?'

Eden
smiled. 'No. She hated lazy people. She never did a lick of work herself, but
she expected others to work from early until late.'

'So
maybe it was you and not Mrs. Farrington who made a success of the whole
thing.'

'Maybe,'
Eden said, smiling.

'All
right, so I've done all my cheering-up for the day. As fetching as you look in
that nightgown — which, by the way, is nearly transparent in the sunlight — why
don't you get dressed and come downstairs and eat?'

'I — '
Eden began. Her instinct was to grab a blanket off the chest at the foot of the
bed and cover herself, but she didn't. Instead, she looked up at McBride.

'Oh,
no, you don't. I want nothing given to me out of gratitude for my wisdom. Get
dressed, and that's an order. I've already called Granville and told him that
you don't feel well so you're staying home today. You won't be meeting any of
his egomaniacal clients and trying to design gardens that they'll never appreciate.'

'You
had no right to do that!' Eden said, standing up and glaring at him.

Jared
looked at her standing in front of the sun-filled window, wearing just the old
nightgown, thin from a hundred washings, and turned pale. He opened his mouth
to say something, but then he turned on his heel and left the room. 'Ten
minutes, Palmer,' he called back to her. 'Take more than fifteen and I'll be
back.'

Eden
couldn't help smiling as she closed her bedroom door and went to the shower.
Men, and McBride in particular, were a pain in the neck, she thought, but
sometimes they could make you feel great. In the shower, with the water turned
on as hot as it would go, she washed her hair and lathered her face with a
cleansing gel. Soap made her skin too dry, and the last thing she needed right
now was flaking skin.

As the
water washed over her, she replayed in her mind everything that she and Melissa
had said. She hadn't been a good mother. She should have listened more, cared
more, taken Melissa's complaints more seriously. On the other hand, she was a
person as well as a mother, and it still hurt the way her daughter had let her
leave New York so easily. When Eden had turned her apartment over to her
daughter and the man she'd married, they'd been elated at the idea of being on
their own. But it was one thing to dream about being someone's wife and another
to be one.

'Not
that I know anything about marriage,' Eden said to herself. In the past,
whenever she'd thought about marriage, her first consideration had been her
daughter, and Eden had always feared what would happen if she let a third
person into their lives.

But
that was done, she thought. Now she was free. As she washed the conditioner out
of her hair, she thought about Brad. In spite of all that McBride said against him,
she liked Brad very much. He was kind, considerate, thoughtful. They liked the
same things. She very much liked the subdivision he'd designed. What was it
that Drake Haughton had said? That he drew what Brad imagined. Brad was
creative and intelligent —  and he liked Eden.