An Unforgettable Lady(73)

Since that night, he'd avoided getting too close to her and it was hard not to feel like a leper as he sidestepped around her if they met in the hall or they passed while going in and out of her bathroom. She told herself not to take it personally but that didn't really help.

As the fax kept going, shooting out page after page, she looked down at the list of signatures and frowned.

"That's for me."

Grace jumped at the sound of his voice. He'd managed to cross the room without a sound and she wondered whether she'd ever get used to how quietly he moved.

"What are they?" She handed the documents to him.

"Delivery and visitor logs." He went back to the conference table.

"From what?"

When he didn't answer, she knew they had to do with the case.

"Tell me about the investigation," she said quietly.

He looked up. "I don't want to upset you."

"I told you before, I'd feel better knowing what's going on."

"I'm not so sure about that," he muttered. When she stared at him pointedly, he shrugged. "I’m going through the buildings logs with a fresh set of eyes. Looking for patterns Marks and his team might have missed."

She went to him, leaning over his shoulder and staring down at the columns of signatures and dates and times. She saw a lot of the same names and recognized many of them.

"Isn't it time to go to the airport?" he asked abruptly.

"Yes. I suppose so."

Although she wouldn't have minded putting off the trip altogether. She still felt as if she should be going to Mimi's funeral and she wasn't looking forward to seeing her mother. The conversation she'd had with Carolina the day before, when she'd had to explain that Ranulf wasn't coming, hadn't gone well. The disapproval coming through the phone had intensified when she'd mentioned she was being accompanied by a male "friend."

When she and Smith left the office, Grace was hoping that the time would just fly by. She loved her mother, as much as the woman would let her, but a little of Carolina Hall went a long way.

Eddie drove them out of the city to Teterboro Airport where the Hall family plane was waiting, fueled up and gleaming on the tarmac. The Gulf stream jet had been used frequently by her father, but Grace was thinking of selling it, feeling that the overhead expense outweighed the convenience. The trip wasn't a long one. It was little more than an hour of air time to T. F Greene Airport, which was located just outside of Providence, Rhode Island. As they stepped from the plane, she saw a familiar black Mercedes waiting at a special, side entrance of the field.



"Hello, Wilhelm," Grace greeted the driver as they approached, a uniformed porter behind them pushing their things on a cart.

"Miss Grace," the man replied, doffing his chauffeur's hat. The German accent was heavy in his pronunciation.

"How is Marta?"

As the man opened the rear door, he replied, "Well. She's just as well as always. She's looking forward to having you in the house again, even if it is only for the weekend."

"Wilhelm, this is John Smith. A friend of mine."

The older man bent at the waist briefly. "Sir."

Smith nodded and slid into the back.

It took a full hour to reach Newport and, as they scaled the majestic bridge going onto the island, Grace felt a lick of anticipation in her stomach. The house at Newport was her true home, a place she loved as if it were a living member of the family. The vivid summer days and soft summer nights of her youth at the ocean's edge were more clear in her mind than what had happened the day before at the office.

And with the way things were going with the Gala, the chronological amnesia was a good thing. She still didn't have a suitable auction piece and there were some serious problems with the food for the event.

Thanks to Fredrique's interference, the caterer had come up with an obscure menu of Asian fusion that was so kinky and over the top, Grace had had to ask them to start all over again. Serving blowfish at the Gala just wasn't what she had in mind—it was expensive, and deadly if prepared incorrectly. She wanted to offer the guests fine fare, not a trip to the Lenox Hill emergency room.

She put the responsibility for the menu snafu firmly in her own court. She'd assumed that her call to Fredrique when she'd first learned of his meddling had been sufficient to get him to back off but clearly she'd been wrong. According to Lolly Ramparr and her staff at NightWorx, he'd showed up at their shop and refused to leave when they told him it was their understanding he wasn't involved with the Gala this year. When he kept giving orders, Lolly had tried to reach Grace, who'd been in a meeting and unavailable. Freder-ique had then demanded Lamont be called and Lou had promptly vouched for the authority the man was assuming. Lolly had done what he'd said.