Dangerous Relations Page 7

  Ardin felt like singing--belting out "Cockeyed Optimist" from South Pacific--a definite sign she was extraordinarily happy. Odd, since going to a playground, taking a little girl to the bathroom, and shopping in the supermarket were humdrum activities. Ordinary chores millions of people performed daily all over the world. To her, it was as thrilling as a vacation on Maui.

  "Mommy was going to buy me some butterfly clips," Leonie said.

  Ardin swallowed the lump in her throat. She turned around to face Leonie. "I'll get you some, honey. They must have some in the supermarket."

  "Mommy was going to buy them in her hair salon."

  "Oh," Ardin said, feeling foolish.

  "Hey, Sugarplum. There's a great drugstore in the mall. I bet it has real sparkling butterflies."

  Leonie crinkled her nose the way her mother used to. "Do you think so?"

  "Absolutely, positively." Brett winked at Ardin, letting her in on the fact that he knew no such thing.

  At the mall, Leonie held Ardin and Brett's hands as they headed toward an entrance. Anyone seeing them would assume they were a family--a family of three. Only they were no such thing. They were three people thrown together because Suziette had been murdered.

  Leonie exclaimed with delight when she saw the drugstore's large array of hair clips. After much deliberation, she chose a pair of shocking pink and electric blue butterfly clips.

  Her small hand hovered over a large iridescent butterfly. "Mommy would have liked this one," she said wistfully.

  Brett's arm encircled her waist. "I think you're right."

  "Do you think Mommy can see us from where she is?"

  "I really think she can."

  Leonie nestled into his embrace. "Me, too."

  Ardin felt a stab of remorse. Leonie and Brett were so happy together. How could she, in good conscience, contrive to take Leonie from him to live in Manhattan? It would be cruel to put distance between Leonie and the only father she'd ever known. But, she argued on her own behalf, Leonie needed a mother. And besides, she was Leonie's blood relative, the person Suziette had chosen to bring up her daughter if her mother couldn't.

  She mustered up the resolve that had enabled her to get past her worst days during and after Corey, and told herself she would not, under any circumstances, give up Leonie. She'd arrange to have Leonie visit Brett on occasional weekends. And that, she told herself firmly, was that.

  In the supermarket, Brett commandeered a wagon and headed straight for the cookies. Ardin was pleased to see he knew his way around the store. Pleased, too, that he refused to let Leonie con him into any impulse buying.

  When they were back in the car, he said, "Now, how about a nice Italian dinner?"

  "Pizza, pizza, pizza!" Leonie shouted.

  "If you like." He winked at Ardin, making her stomach go flip-flop. "The takeout area of this place is hectic, but we'll dine in the restaurant section like lord and ladies."

  "Silly Daddy," Leonie said, and fell promptly asleep in her car seat.

  When Brett switched off the engine at the restaurant, Leonie woke up. "Mommy?" she called, her voice plaintive.

  "I'm here, Sugarplum." Brett undid the strap of the car seat, and she crept into his arms.

  Leonie blinked at Ardin. "I thought you were Mommy."

  "Oh!" Ardin said, surprised. "I don't look like her, do I?"

  Leonie pushed out her lips. "Not now, but you did before."

  Ardin reached out to take her hand. "Cousin Ardin's here."

  "I know." Leonie gripped Ardin's hand, held it fast to her chest. "Don't leave me!"

  "I won't," she promised.

  * * * *

  The restaurant was quiet, comfortable, and empty. Brett leaned back in his chair and sighed contentedly. For the first time in weeks, he felt at peace. Coming here had been a good idea. Inviting Ardin along, an even better one. It wasn't just that he hoped--no, counted on--her help with his suit to gain custody of Leonie. He thoroughly enjoyed her company. He found her restful and exciting at the same time.

  He pretended to study his menu as he watched her explain the different kinds of pasta to Leonie. Ardin had a natural gift with children, and she held his precious Sugarplum in thrall. Leonie, her blonde head cocked to one side, listened intently to every word her older cousin was saying.

  "I still want pizza," she declared when Ardin had finished her spiel.

  He and Ardin burst out laughing. He froze when Leonie turned her big blue eyes on him, worried that they'd hurt her feelings. For a moment she seemed puzzled, not certain if they were making fun or were exceedingly pleased with her. He winked, and her little face glowed with pleasure.

  We're a nice and easy threesome. Brett grimaced when he remembered how similar outings with Suziette had always turned into a battle of wills. She would have stuck up her nose at this place, insisting that they eat in a formal, more expensive restaurant.

  Ardin cast him a questioning look. He shook his head to let her know that his expression hadn't been connected to the present and was, therefore, of no importance. When Ardin smiled in understanding, it left him feeling warm, as though she'd known exactly what had been running through his mind.

  Leonie finished most of a slice of pizza while they were still working on their main courses, and started to fidget. When the coffee came, she stood up. "Daddy, I'm going to take a walk to the pizza parlor."

  Brett frowned, worried about kidnappers and child molesters. "I don't know if you should, Sugarplum."

  "Oh, Daddy! It's right over there." She pointed at the archway leading to the pizza parlor. "I won't get lost, and I'll only stay one minute, I promise."

  Automatically, he turned to Ardin, and felt some relief when she nodded her approval. Her eyes were gray, he noticed for the first time. Expressive eyes that reflected color and light and every emotion that crossed her mind.

  "Go on, Leonie," he said. "But come right back."

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Leonie returned a minute later with a redheaded girl her age in tow. "I found Michelle! She was having pizza with her mom and baby brother."

  Michelle waved at Ardin and Brett, and then followed Leonie to an empty table in the back of the restaurant.

  A tall redhead in black spandex, carrying a toddler on one hip, had followed the girls. "Hello, Vivie," Ardin said.

  Of course! Vivie Presley, Bill's stunning wife from South Carolina. She'd been a guest at his wedding, and he'd seen her once or twice at the nursery school. Brett's eyes traveled up and down her flawless figure. Ardin's mother was right. She did look like a redheaded Nicole Kidman.

  "Hi, Vivie." he said when he'd finished gaping. He felt embarrassed, like a kid caught stealing apples.

  The amused look in Vivie's violet eyes told him she knew exactly what he'd been thinking. "Hello, you two," she drawled. "Having fun back here, all by yourselves?"

  To his relief, Ardin laughed and said, "Vivie, someday your vivid imagination will land you in a pile of trouble."

  Vivie fluttered her eyelashes. "I sincerely hope so. Life's been awfully boring lately." She looked at Brett and laid her hand on her heart. "I sure don't mean what's happened to Suziette. That was downright terrible. And Ardin, honey, I'm sorry about Julia."

  The little boy started to fuss. Vivie made comforting sounds, and shifted him to her other hip. Brett was astonished how this immediately quieted him down.

  Vivie lowered her voice. "Are they any closer to finding out who did it?"

  "No," Brett said, "but someone broke into my house this morning."

  "I know," Vivie said. "Dimitri Costas told me."

  "Dimitri!" he and Ardin exclaimed at the same time.

  Ardin moved to the chair next to the wall so Vivie could sit down.

  "The police brought him in for questioning," Vivie explained. "He called me to see if Bill would go down to the station and represent him."

  "And did he?" Ardin said.

  "We-ll, in the end I convinced him to and he did."
<
br />   I bet. For a moment, Brett let his mind run wild imagining Vivie's methods of persuasion. "Do you know Dimitri from the gym?"

  Vivie shrugged. "Where else? And I know he'd never hurt Suziette. He thought the world of her."

  Brett felt as though he'd been dumped in the ocean, with ten-foot waves crashing over him.

  Vivie instantly looked contrite. "I'm sorry, Brett. I don't mean to be insensitive, but Suziette was a free spirit. She had no business getting married, especially to a nice guy like you."

  "Gee, thanks." Brett wished Vivie would haul herself off and disappear.

  Leonie and Michelle ran up to the table, granting him at least part of his wish. "Mommy," Michelle said, "can Leonie come over tomorrow after nursery school?"

  "We'll have to see, my darlings. I can't say right now, but..." She sent Brett a meaningful look. "...if Leonie's Daddy gives the okay, she may stay with us on Saturday night."

  "Daddy, pleeeeease," Leonie begged.

  He squirmed, aggravated that he couldn't simply say yes. "It's up to Cousin Ardin." He turned to Vivie, "Ardin's looking after Leonie, while Julia's in the hospital."

  "Please, Cousin Ardin," Leonie pleaded.

  "Well, I don't see why not," Ardin said.

  "Yay!" Both little girls thrust their small fists in the air.

  His annoyance forgotten, Brett felt like cheering, too. Now both he and Ardin were free on Saturday night. Maybe she'd agree to go out with him, just for the fun of it.

  "Shush! You're in a restaurant." In one graceful motion, Vivie rose to her feet. "We must be going." She blew a kiss to Brett, one to Ardin, and planted one on Leonie's cheek. "Speak to y'all real soon."

  "I'll return your cot later this week," Ardin called after her.

  Vivie turned around and winked. "Bill can fetch that Saturday morning. It will be his weekend chore."

  When she was out of sight, he said, "Boy, she's something else, isn't she?"

  "Beautiful," Ardin agreed. "And a breath of fresh air."

  He put his hand on Leonie's head, but his grin was for Ardin. "I prefer blondes, myself."

  Ardin didn't answer, but he caught her smile as she rummaged through her purse.

  With a pang, he noted it was seven-thirty. An hour and a half had flown by. Time to get Leonie home, bathed, and into bed. But first he had to drop Ardin off at Julia's house. Not a happy thought.

  Leonie dashed ahead of them to the front door. Brett deliberately slowed down, unwilling to end his time with Ardin.

  "Thanks for dinner and a great afternoon," she said.

  "My pleasure." He took a deep breath, and decided it was now or never. "Since Vivie's doing the honors Saturday night, would you like to see a movie or whatever? I'm open to suggestions."

  He suddenly remembered last night's explosive kiss, and hoped she wouldn't notice his reddened ears. That had just--happened, but he'd make damn sure there was no repeat performance. His life was too screwed up for romantic involvements, especially not with Ardin, whom he considered a friend.

  "Just a friendly night out on the town," he said, to set the record straight.

  Ardin didn't answer. Too soon they reached the door where Leonie stood waiting. "Hurry up, you two. I want to go home."

  "We're coming," Brett felt like an idiot. He'd asked Ardin to spend a simple evening with him, and she hadn't bothered to answer.

  In the Jeep. Leonie chattered away, filling the silence between them. Brett sighed, exasperated. She could at least offer him the courtesy of an answer. Yes. No. Even a maybe would do.

  He pulled into Julia's driveway. "We're here," he said, louder than he'd meant to.

  "Saturday sounds fine," she said.

  "Great! Fine!" He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "Speak to you."

  Leonie wrapped her small arms around Ardin's neck. "Bye, Cousin Ardin. I'll see you tomorrow."

  * * * *

  From the living room window, Ardin watched the Jeep back out of the driveway and disappear from view. She touched her cheek where Brett had kissed her, felt the imprint of Leonie's hug. She suddenly felt desolate. As though her family had abandoned her, leaving her to fend for herself.

  She told herself not to be silly. Leonie would be back with her tomorrow afternoon. And she'd see Brett again--her heart raced at the thought--on Saturday night.

  At first she couldn't believe she'd heard correctly--that he'd asked her out on a date. Because that's what it was, a real, live, in-the-flesh date, regardless of what either of them called it. Of course she'd wanted to accept. All afternoon and evening she'd longed to clasp his hand, rub his cheek, pull him close to her.

  She was drawn to him as though he were a six-foot-two human magnet. She longed to wrap herself around his tall, muscular body while he kissed and stroked her to blissful oblivion.

  "Stop it! You're man-starved, is what you are. And you've no right taking it out on Brett."

  She'd accepted his offer despite her better judgment. He was Suziette's widower, after all. Leonie's Daddy. And he was bound to be furious, once he found out she intended to fight him for Leonie. Most likely, he'd never speak to her again.

  But she couldn't bring herself to disappoint him after seeing his pain when she hadn't answered his question. His delight when she said yes made her want to turn cartwheels. Now, alone in her aunt's house, her moment of euphoria evaporated like smoke, and she was back in the doldrums.

  "Get a grip, girl. It's not the end of the world."

  She turned away from the window and wandered aimlessly through the downstairs rooms. It was only eight o'clock and she was as restless as a tigress pacing its cage.

  Elvira, her aunt's cleaning woman, had done her usual A-one cleaning job. The kitchen counters were spotless, the furniture dust-free, and everything was in its place. Ardin poured herself a glass of water and carried it upstairs.

  She tossed her jacket on her bed and noticed the small room looked less cluttered. Elvira had taken the odds and ends from the room and put them--where? Curious, Ardin wandered into Leonie's little-girl room. No sign of them there. She went into Suziette's old room, which looked exactly as it had the night before. She slid open one door of the shallow closet. There were the old lamp and vase, the three or four pictures, leaning against the wall.

  A few articles of clothing that Suziette had discarded almost a decade ago still hung on metal hangers. Compelled to keep on searching--for what, she had no idea--Ardin pulled open the top drawer of her cousin's old bureau. It held two pairs of bikini panties, their elastic well stretched, and a lacy bra. The two drawers below were empty.

  A folded blanket took up most of the bottom drawer. Ardin lifted up the four corners of the blanket, then felt along the wooden bottom of the drawer.

  Playing detective? she mocked herself as she slid her hand between the folds of the blanket. She gasped when her fingers touched a hard, flat surface. She pulled out a small notepad with a metal spiral across the narrow top. It was the type of pad they'd used to write down homework assignments in high school.

  Excited, Ardin sat down on the bed and flipped through the pages. There were no words, no numbers on the ten or twelve pages Suziette had used, but she'd recorded something in this notepad.

  Each page had a heading of two capital letters. Probably some boy's initials. Below that were slashes, marked off in groups of fives. The blood rushed to her face. She knew what they stood for. No doubt the lowercase letters and smaller slashes represented variations on Suziette's sexual proclivities.

  At first the initials meant nothing to her. She had no idea who CQ could be. And where were the initials RT for Randy Tarkman, Suziette's longest-lasting boyfriend? They'd gone together for six months. Frustrated, Ardin ran through the pages again. The most tallies were on the first page under the initials SU.

  It came to her. Suziette, in her usual devious way, had moved the initials up a letter. S stood for Randy, U for Tarkman. And CQ on the fifth page must be Bill Presley. Proud of her discovery, Ardin
flipped back to the second page. Her heart sank when she saw DN. Corey MacAllister. Who else could it be?

  A stabbing pain pierced her stomach, and she doubled up on the bed. It was stupid to feel betrayed after all these years because Corey had been involved with Suziette before Ardin had ever gone out with him. He was on the first page, too, which probably meant he was her first lover.

  If their history went back that far, maybe Corey had always loved Suziette. Maybe he was Leonie's father, and that had brought them together more recently. Ardin shuddered as she considered Corey and his temper. Strangling someone to death was something only an angry person could do.

  The sound of the garage door opening sent her leaping from the bed. Was it the murderer? Leonie's father looking for incriminating information Suziette had left behind? Ardin clutched the notebook to her chest. Maybe he was after this!

  She turned out the light and crossed the hall to peer out the window facing the front of the house. A beat-up old van was parked in the center of the two-car driveway.

  The driver had to have seen her car next to Aunt Julia's Cadillac. He knew she was inside the house. Ardin's thoughts whirled. If he had access to the garage, he probably also had the key to the house. Which meant in no time flat he'd be up the flight of stairs, hunting her down.

  She had to get out. Ardin knew she'd have to chance the stairs. She listened carefully, peered down the dark stairway. There was no sound or sight of the intruder. She sped down the stairs and into the den, where she unlocked the glass door and stepped outside.

  The cold air stung. Ardin wished she'd thought to put on her jacket. She kept close to the shrubbery as she inched around to the front of the house. The sound of the closing garage door made her jump. The sensible thing would be to run to a neighbor for help, but she had to see who had come after her.

  She forced herself to cross the driveway, but saw no sign of the intruder. When she saw the man at the front door, with his finger pressed to the doorbell, she breathed a sigh of relief.