Amaryllis (30 page)

“Still, that's no excuse for what happened. Matt was married and that was the bottom line. We don't approve of affairs in Lower Bellevue, but we all know they happen on occasion. It's sort of understood that married folk who fool around are supposed to do it with other married folk, and they're supposed to be discreet. Young Bailey broke all the rules when he involved Eugenia in an affair.”

Lucas nodded in solemn understanding.

Oscar shook his head. “I don't know what Eugenia and Matt Bailey told themselves to justify the pain and humiliation they caused their families, but I will always put the bulk of the blame on Bailey. My sister was just a girl. Barely eighteen years old. She hadn't had her birth control shots because there had been a recent scare about the quality of the vaccine.”

“I see.”

“Bailey's vaccination had been temporarily neutralized because he and his wife were attempting to have a child of their own.”

“So neither one of them was protected.”

Oscar's hand curled into a meaty fist. “I wanted to murder Bailey when I found out what he had done to my sister. We all did. But there wasn't a damn thing we could do. And then they were both lost at sea. Poor little Amaryllis was left to bear the burden of being a bastard. A heavy load to carry, especially in a small town.”

It didn't take a prism's intuition to sense the fires of old anguish and rage that still burned within Oscar. His guilt at having failed to protect his sister only made the volatile mix especially dangerous.

“I understand,” Lucas said quietly.

Oscar turned his head once more to fix Lucas with piercing eyes. “Amaryllis is not eighteen. She's a mature adult. If she wants to have a romantic fling before she gets married, that's her choice. My wife assures me that her
birth control shots are current, and I assume yours are, too.”

“Yeah.”

Oscar nodded brusquely. “Good. Because I warn you, Trent, I won't stand by and see Amaryllis put into the same situation her mother was. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want Amaryllis to have a decent chance at happiness. We both know that means a proper agency marriage. It's the only way to provide some guarantee of contentment between two people. Short-term passion, no matter how powerful, is never a good substitute for long-term compatibility.”

“No, sir.” Lucas decided it would not be wise to assure Oscar that he had already learned his lesson about runaway marriages the hard way. Things were awkward enough as it was.

“Amaryllis is a fine young woman. Her aunt and I and the rest of the family saw to it that she was raised with a good, solid sense of responsibility.”

Lucas morosely considered all the pithy little lectures he had heard Amaryllis give on the subject of family honor and responsibility. “I'm aware of her feelings on the subject.”

“My wife worried for a time that we did our job a little too well. She was afraid that Amaryllis was a bit too prim and proper. Too rigid.” Oscar shot Lucas a speculative glance and then cleared his throat again. “If you know what I mean.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Now you've come along. I can't say I approve of you having an affair with her, but the most important thing is that she doesn't get pregnant out of wedlock the way her mother did. I will not stand by and see my niece ruined and left with an illegitimate child to raise. Do you hear me, Trent?”

“Yes, sir.”

Oscar gripped the arms of his chair. He leaned forward, his expression as grimly determined as that of any stalwart founder. “Then you best make damn sure Amaryllis doesn't
get pregnant because if she does, I'll haul you into court so fast, you'll never know what hit you.”

Lucas raised his brows but said nothing.

“I don't care who you are or how much money you have, Trent. Keep your shots current. If you get my niece in trouble, I'll follow you all the way to the Western Islands, if necessary. And we both know I'll win in the courts. You won't be able to hide behind a wife. You'll be forced to marry my niece.”

“I know that, sir.” Lucas met Oscar's stony gaze. “I give you my word of honor that I won't disgrace Amaryllis or her family.”

Oscar continued to eye him closely for another moment, and then he visibly relaxed. “That's all right, then. You may not have a family of your own, but I have a feeling you know what family means.”

“I know exactly what family means.”

Lucas wondered if the extra slice of straw-peach pie had been laced with a little straw-peach brandy. He was feeling light-headed.
Forced to marry Amaryllis.
For some reason Oscar's threat did not send any chills of dread down his spine.

In the next instant, however, the knowledge that the notion of a nonagency marriage would horrify Amaryllis rendered him stone-cold sober.

“Elizabeth Bailey came to the office two days ago.” Hannah dried a glass and set it in a cupboard. “First time she's been to see me since Matt and Eugenia died. She always drives into the city for her medical care.”

Amaryllis scrubbed industriously on a pot. “Was she ill?”

“No. She wanted to talk to me.”

“About what?”

Hannah reached for another wet glass. “She told me that she wants to see you.”

Amaryllis looked up quickly. “Why?”

“I don't know. She just said that she needed to speak to you.”

“What do you think she wants?”

Hannah smiled sadly. “I expect she's feeling the weight of
the years. Something tells me she's begun to realize just how much she lost when she refused to acknowledge you.”

“I don't believe that for a minute.” Amaryllis hoisted the clean pot out of the sink and set it on the drain board. “Elizabeth Bailey doesn't care about me. She's got plenty of legitimate grandchildren. Matt Bailey was not an only child. His brothers and sisters have married.”

“But Matt was her eldest son.”

“So?”

Hannah paused in her drying. “Aunt Sophy says that Elizabeth probably feels guilty because she pushed Matt into an early marriage with the wrong woman.”

“I doubt that Elizabeth Bailey knows the meaning of guilt. The only reason she might want to see me is to tell me how my mother ruined her son's life and got him killed. I can do without that kind of scene.”

“It's your choice, of course, but I think you should see her, Amaryllis.”

Amaryllis recalled the day of the ice cream incident.
I'm not your grandmother. You have no grandmother. You're a bastard.

“I choose not to see her,” Amaryllis said.

Amaryllis could hardly wait to talk to Lucas the next day. She dove for the phone before she had finished her morning coff-tea.

“I thought that last night went rather well, don't you?” she said as coolly as possible when Lucas answered.

“Great pie.”

“My uncle is a wonderful cook.”

Lucas paused. “Oscar made the pie?”

“Yes. He has a magic touch with pastry.”

“Figures.”

“If you like, I'll ask him to give you the recipe.”

“Never mind,” Lucas muttered. “I don't do any fancy cooking.”

“Well, I wasn't talking about the food, anyway. I meant that I thought Aunt Hannah and Uncle Oscar took to you.”

“Could have fooled me. I had the distinct impression that your uncle would have liked to rip my guts out.”

“That's not true.” Amaryllis was shocked by the bitterness in his words. “They liked you, Lucas. I know they did.”

“It doesn't really matter what they thought of me, does it? After all, our relationship is temporary.”

Amaryllis's spirits plummeted beneath the weight of that incontestable statement. “But we're friends, Lucas. Actually, we're more than friends. I think it's important that they liked you.”

“Speaking of important, I'm a little busy here, Amaryllis. Was there something you wanted?”

The Iceman was back in control, Amaryllis thought. She forced herself to remain calm and composed. She would not let him know how unhappy his chilling words had made her. “As a matter of fact, yes, there is something I wanted. We didn't get much of a chance to talk last night.”

“That was because it became obvious that your aunt and uncle were not going to leave until I did,” Lucas said dryly.

That was true, Amaryllis reflected. Hannah and Oscar had made it clear that they were prepared to sit in Amaryllis's living room all night, if necessary. They had accepted the affair that was going on between Amaryllis and Lucas, but that did not mean they intended to facilitate it.

“I think they've guessed that we're involved,” Amaryllis said delicately.

“Yeah, you could say that. I got a long lecture from Oscar last night, and it was not about how to make a straw-peach pie.”

“The thing is, Lucas, they worry about me. They can't bring themselves to actually approve of our relationship. You know how the older generation is. In their day folks were very discreet about this kind of thing. They still are in places like Lower Bellevue.”

“Yeah, I know.”

He was definitely getting surly now. Amaryllis made herself move on to a more neutral topic. “Lucas, I've been thinking about what Irene Dunley told me at lunch.”

“Ah, yes, the case of the missing secret file.”

Surly and sarcastic. Amaryllis began to get annoyed. “This is serious. The more I think about it, the more I think Irene may be right. It's perfectly possible that someone did
kill Professor Landreth. And that missing file may hold the clue. Why else would anyone bother to steal it?”

“You have absolutely no proof that it was stolen. Try this scenario instead—Irene Dunley has concocted a fantasy for herself because she can't let go of Landreth.”

“I think you're wrong.”

“All right, let's say that a file was stolen from one of the boxes. How do you propose to convince the police of that?”

“I don't know yet.” Amaryllis lowered her voice. “But I'm getting worried because Gifford's name keeps coming up in this mess.”

“Yes, it does, doesn't it? Noticed that myself.”

“It concerns me.”

“Me, too,” Lucas said, “but I suspect for different reasons. Did I mention that Osterley paid a call on me yesterday?”

Amaryllis nearly dropped the phone. “No, you didn't. What did he want?”

“Tried to sell me on the superior services of Unique Prisms. He made a pitch for my business with a strong emphasis on how very discreet his employees are. He made it plain that his prisms don't try to impose any pesky code of ethics on their clients.”

“Oh, dear. I was afraid of something like this. Professor Landreth would have been incensed by Gifford's business practices. I can't help wondering if he knew what Gifford was doing.”

“You think Osterley killed Landreth because the professor threatened an investigation of Unique Prisms?” Lucas sounded only mildly concerned by the possibility. “I guess an inquiry into his business operations could have been potentially embarrassing.”

“No I don't think Gifford murdered him.” Amaryllis's fingers tightened reflexively on the phone. First Clementine and now Lucas had suggested quite casually that Gifford could be a murderer. “Absolutely not. I can't envision Gifford as a killer.”

“You envisioned him as a potential husband at one time.”

Amaryllis was outraged. “That's different. My intuition isn't perfect. Nobody's is.” She thought quickly. “The big unknown here is just how far over the line Unique Prisms is operating.”

“You mean is Osterley merely running a less than ethical business or is he actually aiding and abetting criminal talents?”

Amaryllis swallowed uncomfortably. “That's putting it in very blunt terms.”

“I'm not the subtle type. Ask anyone. The question is an interesting one, but probably purely academic.”

“Why do you say that?”

“I doubt if there's any way to get an answer,” Lucas said. “It would be damn tough to prove that any of Osterley's clients were committing crimes using the focus services of Unique Prisms.”

“A strong detector-talent might be able to catch someone in the act.”

“Don't get any ideas. I've got better things to do with my time than trail around after Osterley's clients waiting to see how they're using his services. Besides, even if I did catch one of them focusing for criminal purposes, the police would still need some hard evidence before anyone could bring charges. Something tells me Osterley's not stupid enough to allow his prisms to get into such awkward situations.”

Amaryllis considered that for a moment. “I need to know more about how Unique Prisms works,” she said finally.

“Damn it, Amaryllis, I just told you—”

“I want to find out just how far Gifford has gone. I need to know if what he's doing is beyond unethical. I want to find out if he's doing anything that's actually illegal.”

“How do you intend to find out?” Lucas sounded grimly amused. “Go undercover? Infiltrate his operation?”

“I could do that. He offered me a job. But I think I'll start by observing one of his clients in action,” Amaryllis said thoughtfully.

“You only know the name of one of his clients. Senator Sheffield.”

“Precisely.”

“Five hells.” Lucas sounded genuinely alarmed now. “Amaryllis, what are you planning to do?”

“Take an active interest in politics. Didn't you tell me that your secretary is always throwing away invitations to political fund-raisers?”

“I get an endless stream of them. So what?”

“When's Sheffield's next fund-raising event?”

“I don't know. I'd have to check with my secretary. She has instructions to toss all of the junk mail into the trash before it gets to my desk.”