Chapter Eight

Lea arrived on the appointed day at 10:00 a.m. sharp. Sara told her brother he was to greet her, but Randal ran away like a frightened two-year-old. Sara called out, "You have to face her soon."

"I will," he called back, then disappeared among the trees. She hoped he wasn't going to the cottage. She'd made sure it was locked, but her brother could open any door.

Sara started toward the front, but Kate came running down the stairs at an Olympic speed, passed her aunt without seeing her, and flung open the heavy front door.

Sara watched from the windows. Lea Oliver was a pretty woman, dark blond hair, a trim figure, and a nice smile. She wasn't one to send men into fits of lust. She was what people used to refer to as "wife material." It was an old-fashioned term that was frowned on in modern times, but it certainly fit this woman.

She and Kate stared at each other for a few minutes, saying nothing, then they fell into each other's arms. They were reuniting friends who didn't let a little thing like time hinder them.

When Sara turned away from the window, she was smiling all the way down to her bone marrow. She was a true believer in love being multiplied, not divided. She loved Kate so much that she was glad to see other people who felt the same way.

Sara went back to the library, where she was organizing the books she'd had in storage. It was great to see them again. She sent a text to Jack to ask him to please come over on his motorcycle at 1:00 p.m. She had a special errand for him. She felt a bit wicked for doing it, but that's when Barbara Adair was to arrive. Jack on his father's Harley might refresh her memories.

At eleven thirty, Sara realized that she hadn't heard from Kate. Shouldn't she be introducing her friend to everyone?

When Sara got to the kitchen, Lenny was there. She was used to his appearance but his scarred face was still startling. He was making a platter of Florida fruits, with pineapple and papaya at the center.

He looked at her as though to ask what she needed.

"Have you seen Kate?"

"She's with the new woman in the movie room." Lenny had an uncanny ability to know what was going on and where.

Sara frowned. "You think she's okay?"

Lenny took a plate from a cabinet, filled it with the fruit, and held it out. He always used as few words as possible.

"Good idea," Sara said. "Take some up to them and see what's going on." She stood below as he went up to the second floor.

Lenny gave a quick knock on the Palm Room, then opened the door. Kate's tear-filled voice said, "She's so young and now I have two half brothers."

He closed the door and went back down to Sara. "Someone needs to see to Kate." His voice was stern, brooking no argument. They all knew he liked Kate very much.

Frowning, Sara went upstairs and quietly opened the door. Kate was saying, "They took my daddy away. He was my entire world. I had no one else."

Sara closed the door and went back down. When she saw her brother, she told him to go to the Palm Room. Now. She didn't allow him to hesitate.

Sara and Lenny stayed below and looked up, waiting for Randal to give them a report.

As the others had done, he quietly opened the door. Kate was saying to Lea, "And Jack hasn't said anything since then! I'm glad he's so respectful, but a girl wants more! You know what I mean?"

"Oh yes, I do!" Lea replied. "A lot more."

Randal closed the door and hurried down the stairs.

The three of them found Jack and sent him up to check on Kate.

"She needs you," Sara said.

"And you three aren't enough for her?" Obviously not pleased, he went upstairs and opened the door. He heard Kate say, "All those years and all her fits of depression, and she did it! I was not the cause!" He closed the door.

Jack went back down the stairs and looked at them.

"Well?" Sara asked.

"I think this is what you women call ‘a good cry,'" he said, then mumbled, "But not good for me." He quickly left the house.

"She has a lot to cry about." Lenny gave Sara and Randal a look of reproach before going back to the kitchen.

Randal put his hands in his pocket and said, "Lea is great, isn't she?" He left the house whistling.

Barbara was driving the rental car from the airport toward Lachlan House. She hadn't been this nervous since her first show on Broadway. Harry had arranged that for her. As often happened, all she had to do was say she'd always dreamed of that, and voilà! she was offered the starring role. That she did it without pay and Harry's company was in charge of the publicity had helped. She'd had to endure a little backstabbing from the other players, but not too bad.

Her hands on the steering wheel were shaking. When she'd first thought about how to appear in Lachlan, she'd imagined arriving in a limo. She'd have twenty pieces of matching luggage, and she'd do the full star treatment. Dazzle them. She'd let Roy's son, Jack, kiss her hand.

But in the end, she couldn't do it. She wanted them to like her. She decided she'd play Susan from Sunday Morning, one of her top grossing movies. She packed a corn-fed wardrobe. Should she put her hair in braids?

It was her son who made her realize how ridiculous she was being.

"Mom," he said. "Are you going to arrive singing ‘Surrey with the Fringe on Top'?"

Children could be brutal. In the end, she packed her own clothes in a couple of Harry's beat-up old suitcases—and twelve pounds of makeup in a separate case. A woman had to look good, didn't she?

She flew first class, wearing the necessary heavy sunglasses and a designer jacket. She spent the night in downtown Fort Lauderdale, right on Broward, and the next morning, she took her time getting ready to go.

So now butterflies were doing leaps in her stomach—which wasn't nearly as flat as she'd like it to be. She thought of their reason for restaging that party.

Exactly what did they know? Billy had been so afraid of his father and brothers that at first he'd kept the Palm Room locked tight. Fortunately, that hadn't slowed her down in getting inside it. All she'd had to do was bat her lashes at gorgeous Roy Wyatt and she was in.

Roy, she thought. Roy, Roy, Roy.

His son, cute little Jack, would be grown up by now. She'd only seen him once. He was ten or eleven and he'd looked at his father with angry, resentful eyes. She'd tried to talk to him, but he wanted nothing to do with her.

"Leave him alone," Roy said. "He likes his new dad better than me." There was pain in his voice.

Maybe it was the pain she felt coming from Roy that made her first notice him. Or maybe it was his deep, rich, male voice. Or his beautiful face and his big, muscular body. More likely, it was the pure, undiluted maleness that surrounded him. It was a strong contrast to her life at home!

At a stoplight, she closed her eyes in memory. She'd only spent a week near Roy, but it had been everything to her.

The driver in the car behind her tapped the horn. She waved an apology and continued driving. What do they know? she wondered. Of course it had to do with that bastard, Derek Oliver. He'd found out the truth. Had these people also figured it out?

Please, she thought, don't let them know what happened. Please.

She slowly pulled into the wide concrete driveway of Lachlan House. There were a couple of cars there, one a cute red-roofed MINI Cooper. Beside it was a pickup truck so battered it looked like it had been used to haul angry bears.

Roy drove a truck just like that, she thought as she got out of the car. As she looked up at the house, her mind filled with memories. She and Roy'd had to sneak about, but after Derek Oliver was gone, they'd had nothing but joy.

She was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't hear the rumble of the motorcycle until it was almost in front of her. And when she did hear it, she froze. Every sense, her eyes, ears, and even her skin, put themselves on hold. Coming toward her was Roy's Harley. She'd recognize it anywhere.

And sitting on it was a man who had a broad-shouldered, long-legged body that was exactly like Roy's. He stopped a few feet from her and took off his black helmet.

"Hello," he said.

It was Roy's body, Roy's face, Roy's voice.

Barbara Adair fainted.

Sara saw Jack carrying the inert movie star into the living room. Kate, her eyes red but face smiling, hurried down the stairs, with Lea close behind her. Great, Sara thought, Kate seems to have acquired yet another mother. She hoped three was the limit.

At the sight of Barbara Adair, everyone came out of wherever they were and gravitated toward her. What was she like in life? they seemed to ask.

But Sara went the other way, sliding into the shadows, deeply glad that everyone was busy elsewhere. There was nothing an introvert liked better than disappearing. "They" were occupied so she could slip away, unseen, with no one asking where she was.

When she got outside, she had a feeling of freedom. For days she'd wanted to go to the little cottage that was on the edge of the property. She didn't want to just look at it but to sink down into the memories it held. So far, she hadn't had time to risk an escape for fear someone would find her and ask, "What do you want to do with...?"

Endless questions were an introvert's nightmare.

So now, maybe a big deal movie star would keep everyone busy for at least an hour. Sara hoped the woman was a drama queen, asking them to fetch and carry for her. That might give Sara two whole hours of peace.

She had to push her way through the tough stems of plants. A couple of iguanas sauntered away. They were about four feet long and glistening colorfully in the bits of sun that came through the tall palms.

When she got to the front door, she had to stop to calm herself. She hadn't been here since she'd been with Cal. Even though it was long ago, she could still feel all those emotions.

He'd had a key made for her, and he'd hidden it rather cleverly in a metal box he'd made in his father's car shop. She hoped it was still there. As she bent to retrieve it, she heard a noise and saw a movement. Someone was there!

"Damn, damn, triple damn," she said under her breath, while thinking that she should go get Lenny or Jack to deal with the trespasser.

"Oh!" said a male voice.

She stood up to see a man, probably forties. He was dark and good-looking. It's funny how you more easily forgive beautiful people, she thought. She smiled at him.

"I'm sorry I startled you. I shouldn't be here," he said. "I just wanted to see the place again. Are you Miss Medlar?"

"Sara," she said. "Are you Reid?"

"Yes." He smiled at her. Nice teeth. "I'll go and leave you alone. You must want to see the place. Cal used to say—" With a hand wave, he took a step back. "I'll see you later."

"Wait," she said. "You knew Cal?"

"Yes, I did. Not well, but he came here to help Roy with the maintenance work. Roy had, uh, well...other things to do, so Cal did the yard work for him." Reid looked up at the cottage. "Cal said this was a..." He frowned in memory. "What was it he said? Oh right. He said this building was ‘a precious place.'"

Sara nodded in agreement, unable to say anything.

"You probably know that my sister and I stayed in here during the week of the house party."

"Yes." His words reminded her that she needed to get back to the business of why they were there. She cocked her head to one side. "Was Derek Oliver blackmailing you too?"

He seemed shocked at her bluntness but he recovered quickly. "Blackmail? Is that what he was doing to them? I guessed it was something nefarious. It certainly wasn't friendship." He smiled. "But alas, I had nothing he could have wanted. He hired me to take care of the house and do anything that was needed. To tell the truth, I was quite young and pretty worthless, but Billy told Mr. Oliver that I was part of the tradition of the house so I had to be hired." He gave a sheepish grin. "Actually, Cal covered for both Roy and me."

They stood there for a moment, listening to the breeze and the iguanas slowly moving about. "I can go get the key if you'd like to go inside."

Sara bent, pulled up a slab of slate, removed a key from a metal box, and held it up. "I have one."

"So that's how Cal got in." He took a step back. "I'll leave you then." His eyes twinkled. "And I won't tell anyone where you are."

That he understood made her smile. Part of her wanted to ask him to stay, but the bigger part wanted to see the cottage by herself. "They're inside the house. Barbara Adair arrived minutes ago."

"I've seen many of her movies. When I knew her, I never guessed she'd became famous. All she seemed to want was—" He broke off.

"Roy?"

He grinned. "You have been doing your homework. After Mr. Oliver left, she said her life had changed. We all thought she and Roy would stay together, but..." He shrugged. "Sorry, I'm gossiping. It's going to be interesting to see everyone." He took another step back. "Not to be nosy, but has Rachel arrived?"

"She has." Sara looked at him. "Do you mind staying in the guesthouse?"

"I would love that. It gives me privacy." He waved his hand to indicate the cottage. "I'd like to make up for the work I didn't do before. I'll go buy a weed whacker and you can tell me how you want this place landscaped. Or—" he paused "—I could just do it the way Cal did it."

"Yes," she said. "The way Cal wanted it done."

"I'll see you soon." He turned away and went through the shrubs toward the house.

Sara watched him go. The key was tight in her hand and when she looked at the door, she changed her mind. Not yet, she thought. She didn't want to see the inside now—and maybe she didn't want to do it alone. She'd like Kate to be with her. Sara feared that the memories of what did and what didn't happen might overwhelm her. Age did that, she thought. Memories of long ago were stronger than what happened in the last years.

She put the key back in the box, replaced the stone, and made her way to the back of the cottage. A tall fence had been put up, but it was hidden by hibiscus bushes. No wonder there were iguanas. They loved to eat the pretty flowers.

She went as far from the back as possible so she could see the stained glass window. Mr. Lachlan had it installed. It didn't fit the style of the cottage and it was way too big, but still, it was glorious. When she turned toward it, Sara was glad to see that it was intact. It was of a knight on a horse and a pretty young woman in a window. The two people were looking at each other. Even in the old glass, they looked like they were in love.

The thought made her remember that Mr. Lachlan said, "Reminds me of you two." Then he'd walked away. The way he said it made her and Cal laugh, which of course sent them into spirals of lust. They made love on the prickly grass, the newly installed window to one side, palm trees on the other.

The memory brought such deep tears to Sara's eyes that she ran from the place. Ran all the way back to the house, then inside to the kitchen. She slammed the door behind her.

Lenny was in the kitchen and the afternoon light through the window exaggerated the scars on his face. Sara couldn't help blinking a few times. His looks were still disconcerting. "Is her royal highness okay?" she asked.

"Her audience seems to think so."

Sara chuckled. Lenny had the ability to sum up people quickly. Over the last years, everyone had asked him about his life, where he'd grown up, that kind of thing. But he never told anyone anything. Sara liked that about him. "I guess they're all with her."

Lenny nodded. "Even the new one. He likes Rachel."

Sara frowned. He meant Reid. "So do Gil and Quinn. I hope she isn't one of those conquer-'em-then-dump-'em types." She looked at her watch. "The caterers should be here soon. You planning to help or disappear?"

Lenny gave a small smile. "Like you do?"

Sara laughed. "Touché." Days before, Lenny had found an apartment over the garage and had claimed it as his own. He never said so, but she had an idea that he was fed up with living in the big house in Southwest Ranches. He got stuck with too many people to look after.

Sara left the kitchen, went through the house to the living room, then stopped in the doorway. As Lenny had said, the great and wondrous Barbara Adair was sitting on the sofa and everyone else was seated around her. She may as well have been on a stage.

Kate glanced up and saw her aunt.

Sara didn't want to join in the mini play so she held up four fingers, then opened her hands to represent a book. Kate nodded—4:00 p.m. in the library. She'd tell Jack and Randal.

Minutes later, the four of them were in the library.

"An AUL meeting?" Jack asked as he sat down, stretching out his long legs in a relaxed way.

Sara raised an eyebrow at him. "So you're the celebrity's golden boy." It wasn't a question.

Jack grinned but didn't reply.

Sara remained standing. "Yes. AUL." She was the one to coin the term. Agreed Upon Lies. They were going to consult about what they would tell the others. Truth or lies didn't matter. They had a goal to achieve.

Kate's eyes were less swollen and most of the red was gone, but there were still hints of the long, deep cry she'd had. "Lea is very nice. We had such a good chat."

The others turned to look at her, eyebrows raised. Pouring out her very soul was a "chat?"

Kate kept her eyes straight ahead and ignored them.

"Well, uh, okay." Sara looked at Jack. "What do you really think of her?" They knew who she meant. "Has she conquered you?"

Jack gave a male scoff. "Far from it. She passed out because I look like my father. He has a lot to answer for."

"She wouldn't let us call a doctor." There was a strong hint of fangirl in Kate's voice.

Sara managed not to roll her eyes. She'd had forty-plus years of being around so-called celebrities. They didn't impress her. She looked at her brother and didn't have to say what she wanted from him.

"Lea is fine," he said softly. His eyes locked with his sister's and she knew what he meant. There was still feeling between them.

"What about Rachel?" Jack asked. "Anyone talk to her?"

"Gil and Quinn seem to have fallen in love with her," Sara said.

The others looked at her in disbelief.

"What can I say?" Sara said. "Love at first sight happens even outside my books. I met Reid. Charming young man. So!" She looked from one to the other. "All in all, they are the most likable bunch of people I've ever met." Her voice was full of disgust. "If I were stranded on a deserted island, I'd want them with me. They are interesting and nice. Am I right?"

They looked at one another and nodded.

"But one of them is a murderer," Jack said.

"Sawed a man's head." Kate shrugged. "A real psycho."

"I think we need to find the motive," Randal said. "Everyone can be driven to murder if the cause is strong enough. We just need to figure out what it was."

"In four days." Sara sat down, her eyes saying that was an impossible task.

"Ask them," Jack said.

Randal smiled. "Which one of you delightful people killed Derek Oliver?"

"And replaced his brain with my hedgehog?" Kate was indignant.

"That I gave you." Sara was smiling. "Was it really your favorite toy?"

Kate looked at her father.

"Her very favorite. She never put it down. She—"

Jack stood up. "I hear cars. The caterers must be arriving. We need to agree on what lies we're going to tell."

Sara sighed. "We're going to have to tell them that we found the body. We don't have time to drag this out."

"And we'll see what they say," Jack said in agreement.

"Right," Kate said. "And we'll watch their reactions. We can—"

There was a knock on the door. Of course the caterers had questions. Where were the spoons?

When Kate saw her aunt look toward the window as though she was planning to climb through it, Kate opened the door. She followed the staff to the kitchen.

The three left behind looked at each other. The show was about to begin.

Dinner was lovely. Sara had ordered Wedgwood china, a service for twelve in the India pattern. The yellow design made a cheerful table. The food was a Florida feast of seafood, with lots of pineapple and coconut. Randal had chosen the wine. It had been a long time since he'd been taught the niceties of upper-class living by Derek Oliver's stepmother, but he remembered them.

Randal and Kate sat at opposite heads of the table and they were easy hosts. Father and daughter were alike in their ability to make people feel at ease. Randal made them laugh with a story of his time at Lachlan House with Mrs. Meyers and how he had to fetch hats and bags and reading glasses. Kate told of playing near the fountain. Everyone expressed astonishment that she remembered anything from that week, since she was so young.

They spoke of how good the house looked. "It's all cosmetic," Jack said modestly. "I didn't change the structure at all."

Barbara asked if anyone would mind if she explored the Palm Room. Rachel told of seeing an old black-and-white movie in there the night before.

"Did you?" Barbara asked.

Only Randal noticed that when she reached for her wineglass, she almost tipped the glass over.

Lea said she was glad to see everyone had prospered in life and was doing so well. Rachel was mostly quiet. She seemed to be studying everyone.

Reid was the only one who appeared to be uncomfortable. When he said that he'd never sat at the big table before, there was an awkward silence. He'd been an employee, not a guest. But then he turned to Jack and said, "And Roy wasn't allowed inside the house either."

"Not in this room anyway," Barbara said in a suggestive way.

Her meaning was so clear that they laughed and the tension was broken.

"We welcome you now," Lea said to Reid, and they raised their glasses to him.

Sara and Jack were sitting side by side. Neither of them were relaxed around strangers. They needed to get to know people first.

When Barbara started retelling Billy's Lonely Laird story, Sara turned to Jack and said softly, "What's bothering you?"

"Nothing." His words were terse.

"Ah. You were told what my brother overheard Kate saying."

Only a slight movement of his chin said yes. "What if I make a mess of it?"

She knew he wasn't talking about murder or the tableful of guests. As always, his major concern in life was Kate. "All the heroes in my books have ultimate confidence—until they fall in love. Then they're scared out of their minds."

"Great. Now I'm someone you made up."

She knew he meant that in a derogatory way, but she didn't take it as such. "You mean you're like my heroes? The kind of man women dream of? Hope for? That they spend their lives searching for?"

He gave a half smile.

"Did you buy her a ring?"

"Years ago. I carry it with me always."

Sara grinned at that. "Then take Kate and the ring and a bottle of champagne to the cottage. Let that place do its magic." She put her hand on his forearm. "Don't leave it too long."

Barbara's voice grew louder. Obviously, she didn't like having her storytelling ignored. Again, Sara repressed the urge to roll her eyes. She knew a bit about storytelling.

After dinner, they went to the pretty living room. Contrary to Kate's protests, she had decorated it beautifully. There was much less color than in Sara's house. Like most people of Kate's generation, she had a love of white rooms. Sara, who had researched the meaning of color for one of her books, said it was "opening your mind to all ideas." Kate liked that. The white upholstered furniture was interspersed with cushions and ornaments that Sara had kept in storage for years. A large bronze sculpture of a Kayan woman, rings around her neck, was in a corner on a pedestal. A tiny art spotlight shone down on her.

"I do so like this room," Barbara said as she sat down. "It's so much better than the way Billy had it."

"That was from James Lachlan," Lea said. "Billy had no choice. It wasn't his taste either."

"But yet, it was all sold," Reid said. His eyes rarely left Rachel, but so far, no one had seen her look at him.

"I miss the big cabinet in the hallway," Rachel said. "Greer used to hide in it." For the first time, she glanced at Reid, then away again.

Sadness settled on Reid's face. "Sorry," he said. "I still miss my little sister."

"I understand missing someone. It lasts forever," Barbara said. "Greer was an unusual girl. She was..." She couldn't seem to finish.

"Awkward and strange?" Rachel said.

Reid frowned. "She couldn't help it. She was isolated by our grandmother. She wasn't used to people."

Sara was standing by the fireplace and waiting for them to settle. She didn't want the job of being moderator, but no one else was stepping forward to do it. But then, the others were too involved with the guests to be fully detached. "Excuse me," she said loudly and they all turned to her. "We know who is deceased, but one of the guests is missing."

"Billy," Barbara said. "How is he?"

Sara glared at her. The actress knew who Sara meant.

"Oh yes. The other one," Barbara said. "I'm sure we all assumed that this party had to do with Derek Oliver. We just didn't want to face it." She looked at Lea. "What happened between you two when he finally got home?"

"He never showed up." Lea's tone told that she wasn't unhappy about that.

When everyone looked at Sara, she took a breath for courage. "Recently, through a series of events, we found Derek Oliver's body. He has been dead for years, probably from the time of the house party."

The Medlar group was watching the others and they all seemed to be astonished into silence.

Barbara recovered first. "Was he buried somewhere?" she asked. "On the property?"

"Hidden, not buried," Sara said.

When the guests opened their mouths to speak, Sara held up her hand. "I don't want to give any more details, but we'd like to hear what you remember about his disappearance."

"And why you came here the first time," Jack added.

No one spoke.

"We know that Derek invited all of you," Sara said. "It was his party and we don't think you came here because you liked the man."

"Oh!" Rachel said. "Are you thinking of foul play?"

"Derek was...?" Lea asked.

"I believe she's speaking of murder," Reid said.

For a moment, everyone was silent.

"I think I'm beginning to understand," Barbara said. "This is one of those Murder Weekends where you try to solve some crime."

"Only this one appears to be real." Reid leaned forward. "Do you have any suspects?"

Sara didn't speak, just looked from one to the other.

"Us," Rachel said. "You believe one of us murdered the man. Maybe—"

Lea spoke up. "In that case, I think I have to be your lead suspect. I despised my husband from the day after our wedding." Everyone looked at her in silence. "I guess I should explain. When Derek and I married, I was quite young and I'd always been sheltered. And my father was rich."

"You were a perfect target for a man like Derek Oliver," Randal said in bitterness.

Lea smiled sweetly at him. "Yes, I was. After the marriage, Derek rapidly went through the money my father gave me. My husband had the belief that if anything good was going to happen to him, it would be because people thought he was so rich that he didn't care about anything. Only his theory never worked. Anyway, just before we came here, he told me he was divorcing me. I believe he had someone else lined up."

"I don't mean to be disbelieving," Kate said, "but wasn't he old then? Was he very attractive?"

"Not physically," Lea said, "but he could be persuasive. I believe it's called ‘love bombing.' I had no doubt that he could get another woman. And if he did, I knew his family's lawyers would leave me penniless, destitute. However, if Derek died, I wouldn't have to deal with divorce. I'd get to keep the nice big house he'd bought with my father's money, and what was in the bank."

"How did it work out for you when he was missing?" Sara asked.

Lea smiled warmly. "Splendidly. I had the house and two of Derek's cousins moved in with me. We were all quite happy without him. Actually, I don't believe he ever had a friend."

While they were silently staring at Lea, thinking about what she'd said, Barbara spoke up. "That's not a motive for murder! It certainly isn't as good as the one I have."

Everyone turned to look at her in interest.

"I assume that everything said here is to be kept private. It won't appear in some tabloid? Or online?"

"Absolutely," Sara said firmly.

"I too had an older husband," Barbara said. "However, he and I had a marriage of understanding. In modern slang, I was his beard." She paused to let people digest her meaning. "I made my husband look like what he wanted the world to think he was."

"And what did you get out of it?" Sara asked seriously.

"My choice of any of the roles in any of the movies that his studio produced. I didn't have to pay my dues with horror movies or be accosted by a lecherous director. My dear husband, Harry Adair, gave me protection and love and kindness." She looked at each one of them. "And Derek Oliver was about to take all of that away. You see, he had done extensive research and he knew the truth about my husband and me. And well, perhaps there was a bit of lack of discretion with some young men and hush money had been exchanged." She waved her hand in dismissal. "The point is, if all that were published, as that odious man threatened to do, it would probably have destroyed my husband."

"And your career that was just getting started," Sara said. "People would start wondering if your bit of success was based on merit or on covering up your husband's peccadillos. Everyone knows that publicity can be slanted in different ways."

With a raised eyebrow, Barbara looked at Sara in a haughty way that they'd all seen her do on-screen—just before she sent someone to their execution. "Writers! They can be such a bother at times, can't they?"

Sara looked affronted, but when the others nodded in agreement, she said, "Hey!"

"As I was saying," Barbara continued, "I was sent here by my husband to negotiate a price with Derek. My husband's entire career could depend on keeping Derek Oliver silent. Killing him would have solved all our problems. In fact, his disappearance did solve the problem."

While the others thought about this, Lea spoke. "I think my reason for murder is as good as yours. Mine affected me personally. You might have benefited if your husband was charged and taken away to jail. In your world, publicity only helps." She said it with no emotion, just as fact.

"Hollywood didn't already know the truth?" Sara asked.

"Of course they did," Barbara said, "but the public didn't. They do so love to keep their illusions."

"I still think my motive was the strongest," Lea said indignantly. "I could have—"

Sara cut her off as she looked at Rachel. "What about you? Did you have a motive for killing Derek Oliver?"

"The jewelry, maybe?"

Everyone looked at her with great interest.

"I don't know the full details, only the basics," Rachel said. "What I do know is that a lot of jewelry was given to my grandmother by her good friend, Mrs. Oliver."

"Derek's stepmother," Randal said softly.

"Yes, she was," Rachel said. "And Derek Oliver wanted those jewels. He seemed to think they were his by right. Does that make sense?"

The Medlar-Wyatt four nodded.

"Weren't you sent here as a punishment?" Barbara asked.

Rachel smiled, showing her perfect teeth. Rich girl teeth, they all seemed to be thinking. "Yes. Too many boys and not enough study. My mother sent me to her dreaded mother-in-law. It was the worst thing she could come up with."

"And were you straightened out?" Sara asked.

"Not in the least." Rachel gave a grin that was infectious.

"What about the jewelry?" Lea asked.

"I'm not sure, but I believe Grans came here to give it to him."

"Give it to him?" Lea asked in disbelief. "Why?"

"I don't know," Rachel said.

Randal spoke up. "I think I can answer that. As you said, Derek Oliver truly believed the pieces belonged to him. He thought they were like riches passed down through a royal family—him being the royalty. But Mrs. Meyers had them. I know she wasn't well, so she probably feared that Oliver would harass and threaten her family after she was gone."

"That sounds like her," Rachel said. "All I know for sure is that the morning Mr. Oliver didn't come to breakfast, I asked where he was. Grans said, ‘I assume he got what he wanted so he ran away.'"

"That was it?" Kate asked. "You didn't ask what she meant?"

"I was still sulking over being punished and besides, I didn't care what the old people were doing. But I did know that if he got the jewels, I wouldn't."

They sat in silence for a moment, thinking about three motives for murder.

They turned to Reid. "I was working. Although, to be honest, I was looking forward to the man leaving. He was quite nasty to my little sister."

"He was," they agreed.

Minutes later, Sara suppressed a yawn, and the group finally broke up. Randal disappeared like he was in a magician's act.

Jack and Kate walked Sara to her room. She had insisted on staying in the Palm Room. They knew it was because she wanted to go through James Lachlan's documents. Whether they had anything to do with the current murder didn't matter to her. She loved research and finding out things. "Learning is what keeps your brain working," she said.

At last, Jack and Kate were alone, standing together in the wide hallway. All the bedroom doors were closed and it was quiet in the house.

"We're down here," Jack said. During the insanely hectic days of renovating and refurbishing the house, he and Kate had had no time alone. Jack often collapsed in the wee hours on a recently delivered mattress, the plastic still on it. He slept until his men arrived at 7:00 a.m. the next day.

But now that was over and as part of the reenactment of the week, he and Kate were to share a room.

He opened the door for her—and they both halted. Twin beds had been in the room, just as they were when Kate and her father had stayed there. But now there was one bed with crisp white sheets and a pretty comforter.

Kate turned away. "I'll find a couch somewhere."

Jack didn't move until she'd taken three steps. Then it was as though he came alive, turning back into the old Jack. "No you won't." He took her hand. "Come with me."

Kate smiled. This was the Jack she knew. She worked to keep up with his long, quick strides. When she tripped on the stairs, he stopped and bent down in front of her. She put her hand on his shoulder while he removed first one of her high heels then the other. Standing, he tossed them onto a chair, then took her hand. Barefoot, she went with him, and his pace quickened.

He led them through the kitchen, then outside. She knew where they were going. Sara's beloved cottage was at the end of the path.

"Do you have the key?" she asked.

It was dark, but there was enough light to see his expression. Implying that there was a lock he couldn't open was insulting. When they reached the round topped door, he turned the knob and it opened.

Inside, the ground floor was one room, with a little kitchen in the corner. There was a marble-topped table and some cushions on the floor and a couch pushed against the wall. On the table was a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice and two flutes.

"You planned this," she said.

"A bit," he said as he opened the champagne and poured. "To us." He raised his glass, then downed the drink.

Kate did the same thing. Jack refilled her glass and she walked to the big stained glass window that dominated the whole end of the cottage. "What did you think of them?"

"I agree with Sara. They're all so sweet they make my teeth hurt."

Kate finished her second glass and Jack refilled it. When she took a step, she wobbled a bit.

"That's going to your head. You didn't eat much tonight."

"Neither did you. Are you worried about something?" She fluttered her lashes at him.

"Yes. I'm worried about you."

"Me?" She was flirting with him. "How could you worry about me after all we've been through?"

His face turned serious. "Kate?" he asked softly.

"Yes?" Her lashes fluttered so hard and fast the wind almost knocked over the bottle of wine.

Jack reached into his trouser pocket, withdrew what was unmistakably a ring, then went onto one knee. "Kate Medlar, will you—?" He didn't finish because Kate jerked her chin up and stared over his head. Her eyes widened.

Jack knew the look. He instantly stood up and looked at what she was seeing.

Through a small window on the far wall, they could see the window at the apex of the big house. There was a light moving about. It had to be from a flashlight.

"Is it...?" Kate asked.

"The attic," Jack said. "Yes. The locked and secured attic."

"Where the body was."

Jack started to put the ring back in his pocket.

"That's mine!" Kate said fiercely and held out her hand.

With his eyes on the light, he absently handed it to her.

"Wow," she said, looking at it. "This is a knockout. I—"

"I have to go," he said as he hurried to the door. "I'll see you later and we'll finish this."

She was beside him instantly. "I'm going with you."

"No, you're not. You're barefoot and half-drunk."

In reply, Kate held out her hands, left one flat, right one holding the ring.

With a smile, Jack slipped the ring on her finger. Of course it fit perfectly. He opened the door. "Try to keep up."

"That won't be easy now that I'm hauling around three great big shiny rocks."

With a smile that showed he was pleased that she liked the ring, Jack took off down the path. Kate followed him, her skirt hiked up around her hips, her legs bare. She gave a few quiet "ouches" but she kept running. Florida sawgrass isn't for sissies.

Jack silently went in the back door, then up the old stairs Kate had used as a child. When they got to the nursery, the door was locked, just as they had left it. He had a key and opened it. He flipped on the light switch and all looked normal and tidy. Kate limped into the room.

"We missed them." Jack's tone showed his annoyance. They'd taken too long to get there. "I guess they were just looking at things."

"Ha!" Kate sat down on the window seat. "This place has been searched. Everything is out of order from where I put it."

Jack sat down beside her. "You're sure?"

"Absolutely. Dora cleaned, then I put it all back. See those pillows? I didn't leave them like that. And look at the books. They're out of order. And—" She stopped talking because Jack was looking at her in a way he'd never done before. It was like something out of a movie, with desire in his eyes. His eyes were hot and dark and full of fire.

They were alone in the big room.

She could feel her mind and body saying, Yes, yes, yes.

Jack pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Years of pent-up desire, plus a long celibacy, guided them. Clothes came off in seconds, and they fell back against the newly upholstered seat.

At long last they made love. It was short and quick. They had too much passion to postpone anything.

The second time lasted a lot longer, leaving them both satiated—at least for the moment.

At 2:00 a.m., they slipped downstairs and raided the big refrigerator, carrying food and drink back up the stairs. They spread it out on the Lachlan boys' rug that showed the flora and fauna of Florida.

The only light was from a small lamp of a merry-go-round and Kate kept holding up her hand to watch her ring sparkle.

"You didn't answer my question," he said.

She knew exactly what question he meant. "You didn't finish asking me."

"Kate, my beautiful, the best friend I ever had, will you marry me?"

Her eyes glistened. "Friend? Better than Gil?"

He leaned forward. "Better than everyone."

"Oh my! Yes, I'll marry you."

When he leaned forward to kiss her, ever-practical Kate said, "Will you move into my apartment?"

He knew she meant the one in Sara's house. "No. I thought about..." He waved his hand to indicate the room they were in.

"Here? This house?"

"You said you like it. It's too big for us now but..." He shrugged. "Little feet and all that."

Kate felt blood rush to her face. She took a breath. "And Aunt Sara?"

"Cal's house," he said, then his eyes seemed to change color. In the next minute they were making love on top of the alligator pond.

After the group broke up, Randal took his time before going to his room that connected to Lea's. It had been Derek's and he wondered if it had been used by anyone since that week. Billy couldn't very well have parties when there was a rotting corpse upstairs.

The crudeness of his thoughts showed how apprehensive he was about this night. He didn't know how to play it. The women he trained, who worked to put their toned bodies in positions of invitation, were easy to deal with. Easy to say no to. But the instant he saw Lea, he'd known that his feelings for her were the same. His only other love had been Kate's mother.

On the way to his room, he looked out a window and saw movement. When he realized it was Jack and Kate, her barefoot, and him holding her hand and leading her toward the cottage, he smiled deeply. At last! Sara was going to be pleased. If he'd ever met two people who belonged together, it was his daughter and Roy's son.

When they were out of sight, he went into his bedroom. Standing still, he listened. It was something he'd had a lifetime of practice doing. There were times when his ability to be utterly still and listen with all his senses had saved his life. He could hear Lea moving about. Was she waiting for him? Should he go to her or stay where he was?

He gathered his courage and gave a knock on the door. She softly said, "Come in," and he opened the door. It took him a moment before he could speak. She had on a long nightgown of peach-colored silk. It clung to her. He could see that she'd kept herself in excellent shape.

"Kate is wonderful," she said. "She told me some of what has happened to her in the last years. And to you."

He gave a smile that didn't let on that they had heard the depth of Kate's confession.

For a moment they said nothing. The air was full of the awkwardness of why they were there. Her husband's murder.

"What you must think of me," Lea whispered. "I was with you for most of that week. And with Kate. And..."

"You could have murdered him in front of me and I wouldn't have cared."

She smiled at that, but then her face turned serious. "You never contacted me."

He took a step forward. "And say, ‘Wait for me?' I couldn't take away your hope of someday having love and family. For what? For me? I don't have that belief in my own worth."

She took a step toward him. "But I did. I believed in you."

They looked at each other in silence for a moment.

"It couldn't have been easy for you," he said. "You were left alone. When you went home...?" He didn't finish.

"No, it wasn't easy," she answered. "But I didn't have time to think. A month went by and Derek still hadn't shown up, but his two cousins did. My hideous husband had bankrupted them. The poor dears were living by selling things they had before he emptied their bank accounts. And there I was with that big house and a few grand in the bank. I thought I'd get a job, so I let them move in with me. Little did I know how heavily mortgaged the house was. Another six months and we'd all be on the street."

"What did you do?"

She smiled in memory. "It started out in a silly way. Months before, I'd broken a strap on my sandal and I put it back together with some cloth I had. Derek was embarrassed by it, but a woman said she liked it so I made some more. I sold three pair to a local shoe shop. Forty-eight hours later, they had all sold and I was asked to make some more so..." She shrugged.

"So you went into the sandal business?" He made it sound cute.

"We did. His cousins and I set up a little factory in the master bedroom. It was Derek's and we wanted to cleanse it. We worked night and day. It was hard, but we enjoyed it. We called ourselves the Braidy Sisters."

Randal lost his expression of cute. "Braidy? As in those shoes that even we heard about?"

"Yes. I started Braidys, but we sold it four years ago."

Randal's eyes were wide. "For millions?" he whispered.

She nodded.

He sat down on a chair, looking like he had just lost a battle. "This can't happen. My sister will think I'm after your money."

"Does it matter what she thinks?"

"She'd never believe it, but it always has. Very, very much."

Lea frowned. "But you liked me back when I was facing a nasty divorce and poverty."

He smiled. "And you were willing to live on my salary as a butler."

"I rather liked the thought of you and me and Kate living with Mrs. Meyers. I adored her. It would have been lovely."

Randal didn't look happy. "But now things are different. You are rich in your own right. And contrary to popular belief, I have nothing."

Lea nodded in seeming agreement with him, but then she moved to stand in front of him. "I understand how you feel. Everyone will say that you're after my money." With serious eyes, she slipped off a strap of her gown. "Which part of my money do you like best?" She showed her bare shoulder. "This million?" She exposed her other shoulder. "Or this million?"

Randal sat in stunned silence for a moment, then his eyes turned dark. "I like all the millions you have. Every penny of them." They fell on the bed together.

It was hours later when they lay in the bed, their bodies entwined, half-asleep, that Lea brought up the word blackmail.

"I knew he was up to something besides trying to get Mrs. Meyers' rich granddaughter to marry him."

That ugly idea woke Randal up. "Rachel? She was a teenager then. And she's quite pretty. Derek was a toad."

Lea didn't disagree. "What did he have on the people? Besides Barbara, that is."

Randal hesitated. He knew Sara wouldn't like it if he revealed anything. "That's what we hoped you'd know."

"Sorry," she said. "He never confided in me about anything. But when we were here, I used to hear him moving things about." She nodded toward the door to his bedroom.

Randal put his hands behind his head. "If he was blackmailing people, he must have had some proof of whatever he had on them. He couldn't just say ‘I know what you did. Give me money not to tell.' He had to have visible proof."

"I wonder where he kept it."

He turned toward her. "That's a question I should ask you. Did you look in your house?"

"Not specifically for blackmail paraphernalia, but I can tell you that there is no box of papers that incriminated anyone."

"You're sure? It's been over twenty years." He raised on his elbow. "Do you have the same house?"

"Yes. It's an old place so Derek would look like he'd always been rich. It was cheap because it was in such bad shape. I remodeled it. There were termites in the walls and bees in the chimney. It was major work. If there was a hidden safe or secret cabinet, we would have found it."

He sat up. "When you left here, what did you do with his clothes? Were they in his room?"

"Yes. I packed them, but that was normal. I always packed and unpacked for him."

"Surely he had documents in his room. He needed something to threaten people with."

"That's true. Derek was a believer in paperwork. I never thought of it before, but he probably did have documents hidden somewhere. Knowing him, he'd love flaunting them in a person's face."

"So where are they?"

"A bank? But I never received a bill for a safe-deposit box."

They looked at each other, then Lea spoke. "Could they be hidden in this house that has never been remodeled? Not structurally, anyway."

His eyes lit up. "The house that is exactly the same as it was when Derek was here?" He looked at the door to his bedroom. "I think I'll look for a bit. You go to sleep."

Lea rolled out of the other side of the bed and put her arm through a robe that matched the nightgown that was now on the floor. "I'm going to help."

Randal was never one to turn down help. "Just do me a favor, will you? Don't show me any more of your millions or I'll stop searching and..."

"I promise. For an hour or so, anyway."

Smiling, they went into Randal's bedroom and in between kisses, they searched.