Cat Burglar in Training (17 page)

“I don’t like it,” Father said, lifting his chin in a belligerent manner.

The argument had raged for three days, my only respite coming when I’d gone off to waitress at a function for Ruth Winthrop. Frankly, I was sick of it. I didn’t see any alternative. Father hadn’t witnessed the determination in Beauchamp. I had.

“You won’t have any backup. Ben and I should go too.” Father looked like a testy elf. Any moment now he’d stomp his foot.

“We can’t afford it.” I settled the argument with those four words. “Besides, I need you here to help keep an eye on Amber.” I looked at Father and noted how slowly he was moving today. The arthritis again. Perhaps he wouldn’t stomp after all. “Both of you. Besides, we need the money you bring in at the farmers’ market.”

A pleased look flashed across Father’s face while Ben beamed.

“True,” Father conceded.

No hidden pride in this family. I grinned because I was proud of the way they’d made the Oakthorpe stall a success. They sold out by ten most mornings, and the locals had started ringing with vegetable and flower orders when it wasn’t market day.

“Did Charles tell you we might have another case to investigate?”

Great!
Keep ’em busy and out of my hair, then I could focus on the index cards. “That’s good. The reward money from the last one came at the right time.” Perfect timing to stop our power being cut off.

Hannah bustled in with a garment bag held over her arm. “I’ve pressed the Chanel suit for you along with the Annah Stretton outfit. I like that New Zealand designer.” She draped the bag over a chair. “Nice lines and use of color.”

“She shouldn’t be going,” Father said.

“Evie doesn’t have an alternative. We don’t have the money so she has to pay the piper,” Hannah declared.

Father scowled. “The piper’s a stupid ass.”

“Look on the bright side,” I said, trying to minimize the dangers of a weekend away with Beauchamp. “We haven’t hit any targets in Edinburgh. They do have society bashes up there so we might need to consider Scotland as an option.”

Father brightened, and I sighed in relief. Firestorm number six averted.

“I can do some research on the internet this afternoon,” Hannah volunteered.

Ben brightened. “Isn’t the Mackintosh estate up that way? The Tiger Sapphire.”

Father dropped his testiness to nod with enthusiasm. “I’d love to get my hands on that sapphire. Top-line security from what I hear.”

“I’ll look into it,” I promised. “And anything else that looks promising so the weekend away won’t be a total bust.” A pang of remorse hit me as I said the words. I tried not to think about it, but each piece of jewelry we appropriated held memories for the owner. Sentimental value. I forced away the regret playing through my mind, replacing my thoughts with family. I was doing this for them.

“What time do you need to be at Stansted Airport?”

“Not until this afternoon.” I ran a brief mental check to make sure I had everything I needed. Two dressy outfits for dinner. Several for more casual outings and some comfortable cat-burglar clothes. Translation: black tracksuit. Appropriate shoes, undergarments, makeup and costume jewelry. Check. All present and accounted for.

I turned to Father. “Can you drop me at the railway station? I thought it’d be easier than paying for parking at the airport.”

“We’ll drop you off after we finish picking and boxing the tomatoes. Amber can come with us. She’ll want to say goodbye.”

I nodded, feeling a wrench at the idea of being parted from Amber again. The only time I felt she was truly safe was when I could see her.

Beauchamp ushered me from the taxi and escorted me into the hotel foyer while porters organized our luggage. The foyer was minimalist. Elegant and exactly what Beauchamp would need to impress his guests. I wondered why he hadn’t asked his wife to hostess before remembering the two went their separate ways. A modern marriage of convenience. I frowned. Although my mother died when I was young, I could recall my parents’ soft and intimate laughter. Hannah told me recently Father had never embarked on a serious relationship with another woman since. If I ever trusted a man enough to commit, I intended to have a partnership. No half-measures for me.

My thoughts drifted to Kahu while Richard registered. I hadn’t seen Kahu for almost a week. We’d communicated with a couple of texts, but that was all. Part of me was glad since I hadn’t wanted to lie to him about this weekend trip to Edinburgh. I knew it’d look bad to anyone who didn’t have inside information, and I wasn’t about to tell Kahu about our debt. Some stuff was private. Fawkner family business in particular.

“Penny for your thoughts,” Beauchamp said.

The smile fled my face when I registered his flirtatious grin. “Just thinking that Seth would love this hotel. He doesn’t like clutter.” Kahu would probably expect to see me at the Hawkins House ball. Although he’d mentioned it in passing, we hadn’t made firm plans.

“Ah, yes. The boyfriend. What does he think about your weekend away?”

I took pleasure in seeing his jovial manner burst like a bubble. Naughty of me, but I’m only human. Beauchamp’s stricture to act as his hostess was nothing short of blackmail, so I felt the small digs were payback.

“Seth is away this weekend.”

Beauchamp’s smile returned, slow and steady like a flower blooming. “Keeping secrets isn’t good for a relationship.”

Well, he had me there. I ached to tell Kahu even though our relationship was one date and a few kisses long. “I agree,” I said, playing it cool. “Which is why I’ll tell Seth when I see him.”

Beauchamp’s expression told me he thought I was lying. My eyes narrowed. Maybe he expected me to partake in a little horizontal tango this weekend. “Are our rooms sorted? I’d like to unpack.” I reverted to icy politeness to cover my anger. The man was in for a rude awakening if he tried to make a move on me. I was fitter than I’d ever been and knew a move or two.

“This way, my dear.”

I suffered through the hand on the small of my back again, taking care he didn’t see my moue of distaste.

The glass lift sailed up the edge of the building to the very top floor. I moved away from Beauchamp’s touch, ostensibly to look out the window.

“Great view.” It was nothing less than the truth. The city panorama stretched out before us with Edinburgh Castle dominating the skyline. Absolutely stunning. I’d visit the castle and purchase Amber a small souvenir to take home.

“Our guests are arriving later this evening,” Beauchamp said as he slid the key card into the lock and opened the door. “I’d like to have a late supper and drinks when they arrive. Can you organize that?”

“No problem.” I stepped over the threshold. “Which is my room?”

“You can choose,” he said. “Either one will be fine with me.”

I took him at his word and strode across the luxurious oatmeal-colored carpet to inspect the bedrooms. They looked pretty much the same. Both had king-size beds with en suite bathrooms. No locks on the bedroom, but a lock on the bathroom door. I returned to the lounge area to find our luggage had arrived while I inspected the bedrooms.

“This one is fine,” I said.

Beauchamp, ever the gentleman, picked up my leather bag and carried it into the bedroom for me.

“I’ll arrange supper now,” I said. “What time would you prefer?”

He frowned as he considered. “Their flight arrives at nine.”

“Actually, the time doesn’t matter. I’ve had an idea that will work. Are we meeting them at the airport or here?”

“Here at the hotel.”

I nodded. “That will give me time to contact my friends.”

“You’re up here to act as hostess, not gallivant around with friends.”

“I know why I’m here. I don’t believe there’s any misunderstanding. I’ll have everything ready for nine, myself included.” Ice dripped from my words and it was a wonder I didn’t trip over something, with my nose held so high in the air. The need to slam the door was an angry pulse thrumming through my blood. I resisted.

In the privacy of my room, I punched my hand through the air in a series of crosscuts and uppercuts, imagining Beauchamp’s face as my target. Pompous jerk. I ran through another series of punches and added kicks to my routine. My imaginary Beauchamp was a broken man by the time I’d finished.

Feeling immeasurably better, I called the hotel’s catering service. My mobile rang and I picked it up to read the screen. Kahu. Hell. I hesitated before letting the call go through to voice mail. Part of me yearned to listen to his message, but I decided to resist and call him later tonight. I had a job to do and needed to focus. Besides, I’d have to lie to him, and I wanted to put it off for as long as possible. Half an hour later, I clocked off Beauchamp time to look up my friend Jaycee. I hadn’t seen her for years. Not since
the
night.

Pushing aside trepidation, I dialed the number I’d stored in my mobile.

“Jaycee?”

“Speaking.” Her voice contained a hint of Scotland.

“It’s Eve Fawkner.”

“Evie!” she screeched down the phone.

Grinning, I waited until the din reduced to normal range. “Are you free for a couple of hours tonight?”

“Hell, yes. But not at home. Mum’s house is jam-packed with family. My two brothers are here with both their broods, and—well, it’s madness here.”

“I’m at the Sinclair Hotel. Can we meet at a pub?” I wanted to keep Beauchamp away from Jaycee.

“Good idea. How about the Poachers’ Pocket? That’s on Jennings Street. I can be there in…say, half an hour?”

Jaycee looked just the same. Tall with brown eyes, an hourglass figure and a mane of dark curls. She gave a girly shriek when she spotted me and plowed through the crowds to throw herself at me.

“It’s great to see you,” I said and meant it.

“You’re lucky you caught me in Edinburgh. I work for the Foreign and Commonwealth Office as an interpreter.”

“Never,” I said, arching my brows. “Miss Peterson would be proud.”

We exploded into a fit of the giggles. Miss Peterson, our much maligned French tutor, had despaired of Jaycee managing to order her dinner in French let alone work in a position requiring extensive use of a foreign language.

“Let’s get a drink and grab a table,” I said. “I have to be back at the Sinclair by nine.”

With our drinks in front of us, we got down to the business of reminiscing and becoming reacquainted. Somewhere along the line, I needed to work the Christmas party into the conversation and see if Jaycee could help me. I hesitated until finally, I stiffened my backbone and asked the question I needed answered.

“Do you remember the Christmas party held at the Grosvenor Hotel? At the end of our final year of finishing school? The one just before my birthday?”

“Was that the party where Matt proposed to Suzie?”

I sipped my sparkling mineral water and scanned my memories of the party. Still a big blank even after all this time. I set my glass down. A bit more candor required. “It was the party where I got pregnant.”

Shock flashed across her expressive face, chased by sympathy. “I wondered,” she said, reaching over to squeeze my hand. “But you were withdrawn and you disappeared off the face of the Earth. I did call Oakthorpe, but Hannah wouldn’t tell me anything. All she said was you weren’t well.”

“You know I have a daughter?”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how old she is.” She studied me closely. “Tell me to butt out if I’m being nosy, but who’s the father?”

Even though I’d assumed she’d ask the question, I was unprepared for the jolt of fury that lashed me. “I don’t know, but with your help, I intend to find out.”

“Crap, Eve! Do you mean—?”

“Someone drugged me.”

Fury flashed in her eyes on my behalf. “I don’t remember much. It was such a long time ago.”

“I know, but I needed time to put the past into focus. Can you remember which men were with our group or joined us over the course of the evening?”

Jaycee traced the rim of her wineglass, a frown puckering her brow. “Peter and Jeremy. Aidan. Ah, Eve, honey. My memory’s fuzzy. Let me think on it overnight.”

Hiding my bitter disappointment, I nodded. It’d been a long shot anyway. “What about Simon Grenville?”

Jaycee snorted. “Him I remember. He was paralytic drunk by nine, and they had to carry him from the hotel. Believe me, the man wasn’t capable of sitting, let alone—” She broke off abruptly. “Have you tried contacting some of the other girls?”

“Yeah. I’ve done online searches and checked Facebook. I’ve struck out so far. Vivienne isn’t talking to her parents so I don’t know where to contact her. Her mother was very frosty when I rang. She’s disowned.”

“Ouch. There always was a lot of friction there.”

“You can say that again.”

“Always was—”

I grinned, enjoying the old camaraderie we’d fallen into. “Figure of speech, old girl.”

“Humph, not so much of the old, thanks. I found my first gray hair last week. I’m still in shock.” Jaycee gestured at my empty glass. “Do you have time for another drink?”

I checked my watch. “I’d better not. I need to get back to the hotel. What are you up to tomorrow? Any plans?”

“Not a thing,” Jaycee said. “Although I intend to sleep in. That’s a given.”

“I’m not sure what I’m doing tomorrow. I’m meant to babysit the partners of the men Beauchamp’s doing business with. Shopping or sightseeing, or both.”

“Beauchamp? Is he related to Matthew?”

I shrugged and bent to pick up my black leather purse. “It’s Richard Beauchamp. I’m working for him this weekend.”

“Oh! Oh! I’ve had an idea.”

“I wondered about the smell,” I retorted, putting on my posh upper-class accent.

Jaycee grinned. “Ach, I know the city well. Why don’t I come with you tomorrow?” Her accent was soft with the burr and rolling
r
of Scotland.

My grin spilled out to a laugh. “That’s a great idea. What’s your mobile number? I’ll text you in the morning when I know what they want to do.”

We exchanged numbers, stood, and I hugged Jaycee hard before I left. It was great to talk to her, and I wished I’d plucked up the courage to face my past a little earlier.