Thirty-Seven

Allie stepped out of the restroom and encountered Landon and Brent whispering in the hallway. They abruptly stopped the second she appeared.

“Wow!” Brent said and walked to her side. “You’re looking all better.”

“Thanks,” Allie replied and smiled into his eyes.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Landon asked and took Allie’s hand. “Do you need to lie down?”

“No, I’m fine,” Allie replied.

“I’m so glad,” Brent affirmed as he slipped his arm around her waist.

This time, she didn’t move away. Instead she looked at her aunt and said, “I was wondering if Brent and I could have a little privacy.”

Brent’s sudden intake of air preceded Landon’s raised eyebrows and her swift exit. Trying to decide the best place to talk, Allie dismissed all the bedrooms. The living room was visible from the terrace. Besides, Aunt Landon was probably in there planning to eavesdrop. That left the bathrooms or the kitchen. She chose the kitchen.

“We could go into your bedroom.” A hungry gleam in his eyes, Brent tightened his arm around her waist.

Allie nearly choked on the smell of his expensive cologne and stopped short of ramming her elbow in his ribs. “I don’t think so,” she answered and stepped away. Without further explanation, she strode from the hallway toward the kitchen, never questioning that he would follow. Once there, she paused near the breakfast nook and set her purse on the table.

Brent didn’t stop until he was close enough to kiss her. “My, my, my,” he purred, his cologne engulfing her again, “this is a nice change of pace.” When he tried to put his arms around her, Allie gritted her teeth and shoved his chest with both hands.

Stumbling back, Brent struggled for balance while saying, “Baby, what’d you do that for?”

Allie pulled the photos from her purse’s side pocket and held them up with both hands. “Take a look at this slide show,” she challenged and was thankful her voice was steady. Her knees certainly weren’t. After giving him time to view each photo, she placed them face up on the table until only one was left.

His face ashen, Brent plucked at the sleeve of his blazer until Allie was certain he’d tear a hole in it. “Where did you get these?” he demanded.

“I took them this afternoon.” Allie rested a hand on her hip and placed the final photo on the table. She stacked them together and tapped the bottoms against the table. “And unless you want me to march in there this minute and tell my whole family, you’ll take Penny Clayton and leave now—and never show your face again.”

“There’s—there’s been some mistake,” Brent babbled. “Please!” His eyes took on a pathetic appeal. “Please, babe. You’ve got to understand. Penny means nothing to me.”

“Oh?” Allie asked. “How long have you known her?”

“We only just met. It was a chance encounter. A one-time thing. I promise.” He moved toward Allie. “If you’ll just give me another chance . . .” He reached for her again and offered a beguiling smile.

Allie stepped back. “So you only just met her?” she prompted.

“Yes.” His nod was as convincing as the sincere glimmer in his eyes, and Allie couldn’t believe she’d ever been naïve enough to let this man into her home.

“Well, isn’t that interesting.” She crossed her arms. “Because Chrissy’s former maid says she caught the two of you together right before Chrissy died.”

“That liar!” he snapped, a nasty twist to his lips. “She always hated me. Now she’s trying to ruin me!” He shoved his fist into the air.

Gripping the back of the wrought-iron chair, Allie swallowed hard. The magnitude of what she was doing settled upon her and caused more than just her knees to quake.

“She’s lying!” he repeated. “Who are you going to believe? Me . . .” he placed both hands on his chest, “or some stupid maid?”

“That stupid maid, as you put it, is a friend to my best friend’s mother,” Allie replied, her lips twitching. “She also says you’re broke, and that you prey on rich women. Sarah and I figure you and Penny are working together. You’re after me; she’s after Dad. And all for our family’s money. Is that true?”

“You witch!” he snarled. “I hate you!” Lifting his fist, he lunged forward.

A scream ripping her throat, Allie stumbled backward and tilted one of the chairs between them. With a bellow, Brent crashed into the chair and tumbled to the floor.

“Allie!” Aunt Landon’s cry barely preceded her appearance and validated that she hadn’t been far. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” She stood in front of the refrigerator, her gaze trailing from Allie to Brent.

“He needs to go,” Allie declared and struggled to breathe. She picked up the photos and shoved them into her aunt’s hands. “I took these today on the boardwalk.”

Before Landon got through the stack, Brent scrambled to his feet and bolted from the kitchen.

“He and Penny were working together,” Allie explained. She slumped in a chair, placed her elbows on the table, and rested her face in her chilled hands.

Evelyn’s shrill voice rose over a jumble of confused conversation. “What is going on?” she demanded. “Penny! Penny? Why are you going with him?”

The condominium’s door slammed. Allie lifted her face and held Aunt Landon’s confused gaze for a few seconds before Evelyn stormed the kitchen.

“What’s going on here?” she repeated.

Allie’s father followed close behind. “Allie?” he barked. “What have you done?”

“I think she’s just gotten rid of a scoundrel—maybe two,” Aunt Landon said in a deflated voice. She extended the photos to Richard while plopping into a chair herself. Allie haltingly explained everything.

By the time the story was over, Richard was sitting, too. Evelyn softly wept. “He nev-never loved me in the first place,” she said. A curtain of blond hair hid her face as she dabbed at the tears.

Allie couldn’t stop the pity that pulsed through her.

“Penny wasn’t even my friend!” Evelyn wailed. She hunched her shoulders and turned toward her father.

Richard reached for his eldest daughter’s hand and silently squeezed it.

“I’m sorry, Allie.” Landon’s grief-stricken eyes filled with tears. “I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

“I know,” Allie said. “But—” She pressed her lips together as a decade of heartache rolled between them. Allie looked down. “I know,” she repeated and sighed.

Her phone vibrated in her pocket and she wondered if Sarah was calling back with more information. Her hands shook so violently she could barely manage the simple task of retrieving the cell. When she finally looked at the screen, Sarah’s number was not displayed. Instead the number identified the caller as Frederick Wently.

“I need to take this alone.” Allie jumped up. As she ran from the kitchen, she sensed the appraisal of her family, but she didn’t feel obligated to explain a thing. Only when she secured the terrace door behind her did she answer the call and place the phone to her ear.

“Hello, Frederick?” she wobbled out.

“Hi,” he said.

The sound of his voice triggered a deluge of nervous tears. She sniffled, swallowed, and tried to squelch the emotions.

“Allie?” he questioned. “Are you all right?”

She sniffed again, pressed her knuckles against her lips, and prayed for self-control—but to no avail.

“Has someone hurt you?” Frederick growled.

“No . . . no . . . oh, Frederick,” she cried. “I neeeeeed you.”

“I’m here!” he exclaimed. “I’m here, but I can’t find you.”

“You’re here?” she blurted and gripped the top of her head. “At Atlantic Beach?”

“At the resort center you’re staying at. The main office gave me instructions to your condo, but I’ve somehow gotten turned around and must have gotten your number mixed in my head. I’ve knocked on three doors and they’ve all been the wrong ones.”

“Oh my word!” Allie exclaimed and dashed at the tears. She ran to the terrace railing and strained for any sign of him. “You’re here? Now?”

“Yes,” he said and chuckled. “Why are you so surprised? I thought you invited me!”

“You did? I did?” she babbled.

“But of course,” he replied. “When a lady leaves you a voice mail and tells you exactly where she is, you get the impression she wants to see you.”

“I do! I do!” she said. “Do you want to see me?”

“Do I want to see you?” he chided, his voice low and caressing. “No, I don’t want to see you at all, Allie,” Frederick gently mocked. “That’s why I flew to Florida like a madman.”

“You’re here!” she repeated, stood on her tiptoes, and leaned over the railing. A hard perusal of the beach both ways revealed no sign of him.

He laughed. “Yes, I’m here.”

“Where? Where are you?”

“I have no idea. That’s the whole point of this call. I’m as turned around as—Whoa!” he exclaimed, and Allie heard the rev and roar of an engine. “Some guy in a Rolls just nearly ran over me. Wait a minute . . . was that—”

“Brent Everson?” Allie supplied.

“Yes. It was, wasn’t it?”

“Yes.” Allie rubbed away the final tears. “He just left,” she explained. “For good. You can’t be far,” she added without a pause. “Don’t hang up. Stay where you are and I’ll come find you.”

“Those are the most beautiful words I’ve ever heard,” Frederick crooned.