Carol Higgins Clark Boxed Set - Volume 1: This eBook collection contains Zapped, Cursed, and Wrecked. (5 page)

B
ack at Larry’s Laughs, Regan, Kit, and Billy sat down at a candlelit table with Becky, the young hostess who had only been working there for two weeks. Just twenty-one, she was between her junior and senior year of college, and had been hired for the summer. Her red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and she was wearing a short skirt and sleeveless top. She exuded a youthful exuberance and was clearly awed by the excitement. Billy made the introductions.

The room was so dark, it felt like a cave. But it was the only place where they could all sit together and talk. Becky’s hostess stand was at the entrance to the back room, facing the front area with its small bar and big glass window overlooking the street.

“Becky, you know why we’re here,” Regan began.

Becky nodded. “I can’t believe it.”

“Can you please tell us what you saw?”

“I’ve been trying to remember everything. When that woman and Kit came in we gave them the front table by the stage because Kit was on crutches. I showed them to the table myself and made sure Kit was okay. This place was crowded, especially for a Monday night. But when it’s hot people don’t like to stay home. We finally got everyone seated, and then…Georgina?”

“Yes, that’s her name,” Regan answered.

“Georgina came hurrying past me, heading for the front door. I wanted to tell her that the show was about to start and she should go back to her seat but there was something strange and intimidating about her—”

“You got that right,” Kit said. “Something strange.”

“I saw her quickly light a cigarette as soon as she got outside. I figured she’d take a few puffs and be right back.” Becky paused, then frowned. “I watched her take her first puff. It wasn’t really a puff. It was a long, hard drag.”

“She told me she was trying to quit,” Kit said sarcastically.

“Then what happened?” Regan asked.

“Then someone came up to me and asked if they could change their table. They said they couldn’t see very well. We were just about full. I came back here with them and moved them to a table that I didn’t think was any good, but they liked it better. When I went back to my post I looked out and saw this really tall blond guy asking Georgina for a cigarette.”

“Had he been in here?” Regan asked.

Becky shook her head. “I don’t think so. The bar was empty by this time, and everyone had been seated. The only one out front was the bartender who was busy filling the waitress’s orders for the back tables. Clear as day, I could see Georgina’s face all lit up and smiling when she handed him the cigarette. I definitely remember that. You know that look a girl can get when a cute guy pays attention to them?”

“I somehow remember having that look myself,” Kit commented. “It was a long time ago.”

“Well, suddenly she seemed like a different person. All smiles. She hit him on the arm, playfully, and they laughed about something.”

“She hit me on the arm in the cab,” Kit grunted. “I’m pretty sure it’s now black and blue.”

Becky nodded at Kit, then continued. “Then I had to look at our reservations list and count the number of people we had seated. So my head was down for a few minutes. When I looked up they were getting in a cab.”

“What kind of cab?” Regan asked.

“Just a regular four-door sedan. It looked old. He opened the door, she hopped in, and he got in behind her. Then they were off. I have to say I was surprised. I was wondering if Kit, whose name I didn’t know then, was sitting all alone.”

“Is there anything else you can tell us about the guy Georgina left with?” Regan asked.

Becky folded her hands. “The first thing you notice about him is how tall he is. At least six four. Tall and thin. Blond. He had the kind of haircut most guys seem to have—parted on the side. It curled a little on the ends. I saw his profile. My impression was that he was cute…and a few years younger. He had a baby face.”

“What was he wearing?” Regan asked.

“Jeans and a short sleeve shirt.”

“What color shirt?”

“I’m not sure. It might have been green or blue.”

“Is there anything unusual at all you can remember about him or the way they interacted?” Regan asked intently. “Anything at all that might seem insignificant?”

“I’m trying to think…oh…when she was getting in the cab he looked at his watch. But there was something else. I’m trying to think of what it was. This is so frustrating—I know!”

“What?” Regan, Kit, and Billy asked in unison.

“He was a lefty! His watch was on his right hand. I could tell he was left-handed.”

“Well, that could help,” Regan said encouragingly. She’d been hoping for more descriptive information but how much could she expect? “If you would, just keep thinking about it. I know the bartender is cleaning up, but could you ask him to join us for a minute.”

“Sure,” Becky said cheerfully. “As my grandma used to say, two heads are better than one.”

“H
ey, you’re a lot of fun.”

Georgina smiled at Chip, the young man she’d met outside Larry’s Laughs. After leaving the comedy club, they’d been on their way to hear a jazz band down in the East Village when the lights went out. Immediately changing their plans, they got out of the cab at one of the popular bars on Second Avenue in the Fifties where large glass doors opened out onto sidewalk tables. Patrons, most of whom were in their twenties, were standing outside, drinking, enjoying the excitement of the blackout. “You’re a lot of fun, too,” Georgina replied with a smile. “I love people who are spontaneous.”

“This place has a great bar on the roof. Let’s go.” As they started up the dimly lit stairs, people coming down were squeezing past the ones headed up. No one seemed to mind. Chip grabbed her hand. So far so good, Georgina thought.

Upstairs, the bar was to the left. If there were any tables, they couldn’t be seen. It was a giant, noisy cocktail party. “What can I get you to drink?” Chip asked. “If you stand over by the wall, I’ll make my way over to the bar.”

“Normally I’d love a margarita. But I think with all the confusion a glass of white wine would be fine.”

“I’ll see what I can do.”

While Georgina waited, she observed all the young people around her. Everyone seemed so happy and carefree. I never had the chance to be like that, she thought. I never felt comfortable in these big groups. Why is it so easy for everybody else? The three months she’d been with Huck she’d been happy, but then he’d dumped her for her roommate at college. Georgina spotted a young couple. He was blond. He put his arm around his girlfriend and kissed her. The girl giggled and threw her arms around him. Georgina felt her anger building. That’s the way Huck and I once were. You’re going to be sorry, Huck, she thought. I’m going to get you. I’m going to find out where you disappeared to and you’ll be sorry.

“Where did you go?” Chip asked. “It’s like you’re a million miles away.”

Georgina turned. He was holding two margaritas. That’s what Huck would have done for her when they were happy together. “I knew you were a nice guy,” Georgina said with a laugh.

They clinked glasses. “Welcome to New York City,” he said. “You picked some night to be here.”

“I’m glad I picked this night,” she said flirtatiously. “I met you, didn’t I?”

Chip smiled broadly. “That you did. I’ve never connected with someone so fast. Wow! You were going to that comedy club by yourself?”

“Yes. I’m here on business, and no one else wanted to join me. I wanted to get out of the hotel and I love comedy clubs.”

“We could have stayed there.”

Georgina sipped her drink. “Sure. But when you said you liked jazz it just seemed like a better idea to head downtown.”

“You’re here for work?” he asked, moving closer to her.

“Yes. I buy clothes for a boutique in California. I enjoy it but now I’m ready for a change. I’d like to do something where I really help people.” She smiled up at him.

“I know what you mean. I work in finance down on Wall Street but I don’t think it’s for me. I was going into Larry’s tonight because I’m thinking of trying my hand at stand-up comedy.”

“Did you make a reservation?”

“Nah. Sometimes I just wander into a comedy club to see what the comedians are doing. I’m getting up the courage to take a class at night. I figure it’ll be fun no matter what happens. Except when my father hears about it, of course.” Mimicking his dad, Chip said, “I paid for your education and you want to do what?”

Georgina laughed. “That is so great you want to do stand-up!” As they sipped their drinks and chatted, the bar was getting louder and more crowded. Chip bought them each a second margarita. Finally, Georgina looked around and said, “Why don’t we take a walk? People are out on the streets. Maybe you’ll get some good stories for your future stand-up act. At your first performance, I want a front row seat.”

Chip’s eyes lit up. “Some girls I talk to about this think I’m crazy. Not you.”

“You’re not crazy.”

“It’s great to be with someone supportive,” Chip said as he took her hand and led her down the crowded staircase. Outside, they turned left and strolled up Second Avenue.

“Where would you like to go?” Chip asked.

“Let’s just walk for a little while. Later I’d like to take a stroll down by the river. With all the lights out I’m sure the skyline of New York will be just breathtaking.”

“Anything you want,” Chip said, his words slightly slurred. “My lady Rose, the night is yours.”

Georgina smiled. She was glad to see the drinks were hitting him. He hadn’t even realized she’d been pouring her drinks into his cup.

“Rose is such a pretty name,” Chip continued. “Were you named after anyone in your family?”

“No.” Georgina shrugged. “Were you?”

“My dad. But Chip isn’t my real name.”

And Rose isn’t mine, Georgina thought wickedly. We have so much in common.

C
onrad’s conversation with his ex-wife Penny was thoroughly agitating. She knew how to get under his skin, push all his buttons, and needle him with seemingly innocent remarks.

The worst part was, he knew he deserved it. Penny was a very attractive woman, and they’d had a wonderful marriage. A wonderful marriage until Conrad suffered a midlife crisis and fell into the vixen Lorraine’s clutches.

“She certainly chose a luxurious new hotel to stay in now that the loft has been sold,” Penny said softly. “I hear they charge a fortune for a room. Will she be there until she finds a new place to live?”

“No, she won’t,” Conrad answered firmly.

“Do you think she’ll apartment hunt in Greenwich? There are some lovely—”

“You know she prefers the city,” Conrad interrupted.

“Well that’s good to hear. You wouldn’t want to be bumping into her around town. You do like your own space, don’t you?” Penny cleared her throat. “Now, don’t forget. We have Alexis’s twenty-first birthday party here at the house a week from Saturday.”

“I haven’t forgotten.”

“That’s good. I had Rod up here today with his crew. They spruced up the pool house. It needed painting and a few repairs. He really is marvelous.”

“Rod’s a contractor. I didn’t think he did sprucing.”

“For the right price he does. It’s only a couple days’ work. You’ll get the bill.”

Conrad squirmed. Soon he’d be paying the expenses of two ex-wives. It was galling.

“It was good to see him. It had been a while. You didn’t tell me he was doing the renovation on the loft for your old neighbors.”

“They told me they were looking for a good contractor. I recommended Rod because he’d done such beautiful work on our house years ago. I probably should have kept my mouth shut. I don’t need him discussing my business with you.”

“He didn’t, dear. He’s such a sweet man.”

“A sweet man when he shows up. Is he finished?”

“No. He promised me today and tomorrow. They worked until it got dark and then left. They must have been on the road when the blackout struck.” Penny yawned. “Okay, darling. Would you like me to record the news in case Lorraine comes on again?”

“That won’t be necessary. Good night, Penny.” Conrad hung up the phone. He was tempted to pour himself another drink but decided against it. His reflection in the mirror behind the bar was of an attractive, graying man who was in reasonably good shape but whose face showed serious signs of stress. He needed to focus and get to work. With fire in his belly, he sat down at his antique desk. The sight of the red leather desktop, delicate china lamp, and engraved Mont Blanc pen set soothed him. He was ready to tackle what needed to be tackled. As Grandpa Spreckles used to say, “Whenever the world was getting me down, I headed into the kitchen and got to work on a new batch of chocolates. That was when I invented some of our finest recipes.”

Conrad looked up at the portrait of Grandma and Grandpa Spreckles that had been painted in honor of their fiftieth wedding anniversary. They’d be mortified to know how much money generated from the sale of Spreckles chocolates had been paid out to Conrad and his brother, Winston’s, ex-wives. At least Winston now seemed happy with wife number two.

“I’m not going to let Lorraine take me to the cleaners!” Conrad promised his grandparents. He quickly unlocked the file drawer where he kept his financial statements from the last few years. He knew he didn’t pay enough attention to personal money matters. He left it to his accountant, whom he trusted completely. After all, it was the accountant who had urged him to have a prenuptial agreement. Thank God I made her sign it, he thought. Of course she hadn’t been too happy about it. She almost talked him out of it. At least I’d kept my wits about me in that situation. She’ll only get five million dollars.

It only took a few moments of perusing the statements for Conrad’s face to turn beet red. He knew that Lorraine charged every purchase she possibly could. She’d charge a stick of gum if it were allowed. She claimed that it built up their mileage on the airlines. Mileage they were never able to use when they traveled. Their trips always seemed to take place either during the airlines’ blackout dates or when first-class award seats were already long gone.

The credit card bills were approved by Conrad and then sent off to the accountant who paid them. Conrad had also given Lorraine plenty of cash for walking-around money. God knows what she needed it for since everything she bought went on the charge card. But now as he looked through his records he realized that in the past two years she’d withdrawn thousands and thousands of dollars in cash from the three checking accounts. Five hundred here from an ATM machine in New York City. Six hundred there from an ATM machine in Greenwich. Why hadn’t the accountant pointed it out to him? Conrad opened his drawer and pulled out his calculator. He furiously began tapping away at the keys. It totalled nearly seventy thousand dollars!

“Where is all that money?” he squealed. “She must have it stashed away somewhere. Or she has a separate bank account I don’t know about.” He shook his head and continued mumbling. “It’s more likely she stashed it. She never planned for this marriage to last.”

He got up from his desk and stormed out of the room without a glance at his grandparents’ faces. He was too ashamed to look at them. How could he have been so careless?

If she hid that money in this house, I’m going to find it, he thought. I’ll go from room to room and tear everything apart. He stopped in his tracks as he approached the grand staircase. Could she have hidden money somewhere in the loft? He had taken pains to make sure it was completely cleared out on moving day. Everything she’d left there was now in the guest room. Her purses, clothes, yoga mat.

No use thinking about the loft now, he decided as he grabbed the polished wood banister and charged up the steps. First things first.

He knew that money had to be somewhere.

And as Grandpa Spreckles used to say, “It’s not always about the money, it’s about the principle involved.”

You’ve got that right Grandpa, Conrad thought wildly. He strode into the guest room, opened the closet door, and reached for the first in the preposterously long lineup of Lorraine’s designer handbags.