Blake Wentworth emerged from the bathroom wearing a navy blue velour robe and towel-drying his wavy black hair. His wife, propped up in bed with two pillows behind her, the top of her pink lace-and-satin nightgown showing above the blanket, smiled although he was not looking at her.
“You’re the handsomest man I’ve ever seen getting out of the shower.”
Blake lowered the towel and glanced at her, grinning. “I believe that’s what they call a backhanded compliment. Exactly how many men have you seen emerging from the shower, Mrs. Wentworth?”
Lenore blushed. “Oh! That compliment certainly didn’t come out as intended!”
Blake sat down on the edge of the bed. “You’re compliments often don’t. It’s cute.” He touched her cheeks. “So are you when you blush. You look like a little girl.”
“And you look like a very young man.”
“I didn’t think so when I saw four gray hairs in the mirror after I showered.” Blake shook his wet hair at her and laughed.
“Half of my father’s hair was gray when he was fifty and you only have four gray hairs?”
“That’s because I’m a mere forty, darling.”
“And I’m a wrinkled, overweight forty-four,” Lenore mourned. “That’s why I sometimes think you’d like to trade me in for a younger model.”
“Sometimes!” Blake grinned. “Lenore, you let me know at least once a day you think I want a younger woman! ‘Don’t you think that young woman is attractive, Blake?’ ” He’d made his voice higher to imitate her, but there was no ridicule in the imitation and she started to giggle. “Other times it’s, ‘My, so-and-so is prettier at thirty-five than she was at twenty-five. Don’t you think she’s looking especially pretty?’ ” Lenore’s giggle grew louder. “And on days when you’re in a bad mood or have a headache, you just burst out with, ‘Admit it, Blake, you wish you were married to a woman in her twenties! Let’s just get it out on the table. Go ahead. Tell me the truth! I can take it!’ ” She was laughing now, unrestrainedly, although her face flamed.
“Honestly, darling, you amaze me,” Blake continued. “If I were one of those men who is always looking younger women up and down, or staring at the cleavage some of them flaunt at parties, I could understand it. But I’ve never given you reason to be jealous.”
“You’re too polite to ogle other women with me around.”
“No, I don’t do it because I never even think about it. I am completely happy in my marriage.” Lenore gave him a doubtful look and he leaned down. “I would be absolutely lost without my darling Lenore,” he whispered before kissing her deeply.
She ran her hand through his damp hair and gave him a tender smile. Abruptly her smile disappeared. “Oh my, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!”
“See how much I love you?” Blake laughed.
Someone knocked at the door and Blake answered it. A waiter pushed in a cart, Blake gave him a tip, and after closing the door behind him, spread his arms out over the white cloth-covered table. “Room service. I ordered strawberry pancakes for you. You’re not on one of those silly diets again, are you?”
“Well, I was, but strawberry pancakes are too much to resist.”
“I also ordered you bacon, and I got us two pots of coffee. I know last night you were madly in love with tea, but the Lenore I know prefers coffee in the morning.”
“Oh, last night,” Lenore groaned as she climbed out of bed and slipped a beautiful pink matching robe over the nightgown. “Wasn’t that excruciating?”
“The perfect word for the scene.”
“I do like tea, but I’ve drunk gallons of it since I’ve been with Mother the last two weeks. And Jeffrey was acting like a bad-mannered two-year-old, constantly announcing he didn’t like tea. He was upset. I noticed the old man didn’t offer him anything else, though.”
“That was deliberate and well called for, I’d say. He wasn’t going to give in to Jeffrey. He wouldn’t even let Jeff see that his rudeness bothered him.”
“I don’t think Jeff’s rudeness did bother him—Simon Van Etton, that’s his name. It’s a distinguished name. He’s a distinguished man. Very polished.”
“And much more confident than Jeff, I’m afraid.” Blake poured coffee. “I’m surprised those people didn’t know about Penny. They seemed to have no idea about her past, not even that young woman Diana.”
“I know.” Lenore smiled ruefully. “They were genuinely shocked about Penny’s stripping.”
“I thought we were calling it ‘exotic dancing.’ ”
“It’s just you and me now, sweetheart. We can call it what it was.” Lenore took the lid off the warm plate on which lay her pancakes topped with huge strawberries and whipped cream. “Oh my goodness, they look heavenly.”
“I want you to eat every bite. You need your energy. You look a bit pale, and yesterday you had circles under your eyes. Your mother never gives you any rest.”
“Thank goodness I’d just left to catch the plane for home when you called with the news about Penny. I can imagine Mother’s reaction.”
“I can’t. I don’t want to imagine it.” Blake heaped blueberry jam on his toast. “She won’t shed a tear for Penny.”
“Oh, Blake, she will. What an awful thing to say! She’ll be glad that Penny’s out of Jeff’s life and that Cornelia is alive, but she won’t be glad Penny is probably going to die.”
“She won’t say so, but she will be glad. Your mother can be fairly awful.”
Lenore cut a strawberry in half, chewing it and thinking. Yes, her mother probably would be glad, but Lenore had trouble admitting this even to herself. She’d never come to terms with her mother’s unforgiving nature. Instead, Lenore changed the topic. “What do you think of Diana?”
Blake laid down his fork. “Oh no, not again.”
“No, not again.” Lenore smiled. “She was Penny’s friend and Cornelia seemed crazy about her. I just wondered what you thought of her.”
“Well, I know the first thing you’re interested in is whether or not I thought she was pretty. I did. She has magnificent hair, and the eyes are very arresting—they can look soft and feminine one minute and hard as granite the next. She’s feminine, but I can also see her in cowboy boots or climbing trees—”
“Or going on Egyptian expeditions, just as her uncle told us about while we were waiting for her to come home.”
“Yes.” Blake took a bite of his eggs. “I also see a good bit of her uncle in her. But wait—he’s her great-uncle, isn’t he? She’s not easily intimidated. Jeff didn’t scare her any more than he did the uncle. She’s not a hard, masculine woman, but she’s not a delicate flower, either.” He shrugged and smiled at Lenore. “What more can I say?”
“I wish she looked like that housekeeper.”
Blake burst out laughing. “Why do they keep that girl? My God, her manners! She was atrocious!”
“Diana said she was new.”
“There has to be more to the story than that.” Blake was still laughing. “I can’t see Van Etton putting up with her more than a day unless he had a better reason than that she’s inexperienced!”
“Well, we really don’t know these people. We’ve been told they’re highly reputable, we’ve seen that they live well, we’ve even seen how much Corny loves them, but still. . . .”
“But still, we haven’t gotten to know them for ourselves.” Blake paused, crunching a piece of bacon. “And by the way, I know this might make Jeff angry, but may we please call that child Willow instead of Cornelia or, even worse, Corny? Penny hated the name but Jeff insisted on it because he thought it would please your mother, who, true to form, was insulted that he named the daughter of that ‘slut’ after her. Since apparently everyone has been calling her Willow for the last eighteen months, will the world stop turning if we call her Willow, too?”
“I suppose not.” Lenore frowned. “Penny kept her own first name. Why do you suppose she didn’t change it, too?”
“The FBI said Karen Hope Conley is the name on the Social Security card she was using. The card for Willow belongs to a Deborah Lee Conley. I guess if anyone asked, Penny said Penny and Willow were nicknames.”
“But where did Penny get the Social Security cards?”
“I don’t know. We don’t know a whole lot about her life before she married Jeff, Lenore. In her line of work, she could have met all kinds of underworld types who would know how to pull off an identity change. I’ve always believed she turned to one of those people—people who knew Copper Penny and were still willing to help her.”
“For a fee, though. A criminal wouldn’t take a risk for free.”
Blake smiled. “I hope you don’t know that from experience.”
“In spite of all of my father’s rumored shady contacts, I know criminals only from television and in movies—”
“Where criminals are always portrayed with absolute accuracy.” Blake shook his head. “I don’t know how she did it, Lenore, but don’t forget the fifteen thousand dollars missing from her bank account. Maybe she used that money to buy the new Social Security cards.”
“Maybe so.” Lenore took a sip of coffee then poured more in the dainty china cup. “Penny didn’t leave to steal Jeff’s money. I’ve always thought she went away with a rich boyfriend. According to the Van Ettons, though, she lived a lower-middle-class life. Of course, that doesn’t eliminate the possibility of a lover, but he couldn’t have been a rich lover. And where would she have met him? I don’t think she often visited Huntington, West Virginia.”
“She’d probably never heard of it.”
“Then why did she come here?”
“I have no idea, honey.”
Lenore looked at Blake. “Why were you saying all those wonderful things to Jeff last night about knowing real love when you see it, and you saw it in Penny when she looked at Jeff? Were you just trying to calm him down?”
“Partly. That’s why I laid it on so thick. But I’m certain Penny did love Jeff when she married him. I just didn’t see that look of love in her eyes the last few months before she left.”
“Then you think she might have left him for another man.”
“I did at first, just like you did. When so much time went by and Jeff never heard anything from her about a divorce, though, I thought maybe she was with someone who wouldn’t marry her. The only thing I was sure of was that if there was another man, he had a lot of money,” Blake said. “Penny didn’t marry Jeff for money alone—I’m sure of it—but she’d gotten used to a certain lifestyle and she’d also want the best for her daughter. It appears, however, that I was wrong. If there was another man, he certainly didn’t keep her in style.”
“No, she ended up being someone’s research assistant and living in a tiny house with faulty wiring that caused an explosion.”
His mouth full, Blake shook his head then swallowed. “Faulty wiring could cause a fire, but not an explosion. Faulty wiring putting off sparks in a room where there is a gas leak could cause an explosion. We’ll probably get a full report from the fire marshal today.” He paused. “I think we’re ready to start on the second pot of coffee.”
Lenore pretended to toy with her pancakes as if not certain she could take another bite. She caught Blake looking at her, grinning. “You know I’m going to scrape this plate clean, don’t you?”
“Yes. Why not? You always lose at least five pounds when you stay with your mother.”
“I need to lose the five pounds. You don’t, but you’ve lost at least that much. Of all the times for this to happen—when I’m just coming home from Mother’s and you’ve been down with the flu. You’re not over it, you know. You looked utterly worn out when we left the Van Etton house and you coughed throughout the night.”
“It wasn’t exactly a restful evening, Lenore. The icing on the cake was having Cor—Willow—scream that Jeff was the Bad Man, that he killed Penny.”
“Oh, God, that was dreadful! Penny is to blame. She tried to turn Cor—Willow—against Jeff out of revenge.”
“Revenge for what? Jeff didn’t do anything to Penny except treat her like a queen.”
Lenore sighed. “I just wish I knew what Penny was like during her months here in Huntington. I don’t mean that she lived in a modest house and wore inexpensive clothes. I mean what she was really like—what she thought, what she talked about, where she went, what her interests were, if she had any.”
“Well, you’ve met the two people she seemed to know best—Simon Van Etton and Diana Sheridan. If you want to know about Penny, I think Diana’s the best person to ask.”
“But I can’t just go up to her and say, ‘Tell me all you know about Penny.’ ”
Blake laughed. “That would lack finesse.”
“Besides, Diana didn’t strike me as being a gossip. I have a feeling getting information from her—about Penny—would be extremely difficult, especially because I’m Jeffrey’s sister.”
Blake popped the last piece of jam-loaded toast into his mouth and poured another cup of coffee. “Lenore, you are an expert at getting information out of people. It’s one of the reasons Jeff put you on the executive staff of the company. You seem charmingly innocent. Guileless. That disarms people—even very savvy business people. You learned more from some of our competitors than Jeff or I ever could.”
“Talk about backhanded compliments! I’m great at finding out information because people think I’m stupid.”
“I didn’t say stupid. I said guileless. And charming. And completely candid and forthcoming. People blab everything they know to you without realizing they’re doing it. Also, when someone says something vital we need to know, you give no sign that you even realize what they’ve said. You just chatter on as if the information didn’t register.”
“I repeat, people think I’m stupid.”
Blake sighed then smiled at Lenore affectionately. “Okay, they don’t think you’re the sharpest knife in the drawer. They think you have a cushy upper-level job because your brother runs the company.”
“My brother and my husband.”
“Yes, but Jeff was already running things when he brought me on. Sometimes I’m not even sure he needs me. He feels an obligation to me because my father and his father started the business. But that aside, you are a gem, Lenore. Your brother and I know you are responsible for some of the smartest moves ever made by Cavanaugh and Wentworth.” Lenore smiled at him. “So, just how hard a nut do you think Diana Sheridan will be to crack compared to some of the other coups you’ve pulled off so successfully? She doesn’t have a chance at withholding information from Lenore Wentworth.”
“My goodness, maybe I should offer my services to the CIA. Then they could stop torturing people to get information.”
Blake grinned. “Marvelous idea, darling, but they don’t pay as well as Cavanaugh and Wentworth.” His grin faded. “So how about trying to get information about Penny from Diana? I don’t think it will be all that hard for you.”
Lenore took another sip of coffee, looking beyond Blake to the window, the draperies open to a beautiful day. “Last night Jeff said he wanted to see Penny today. He wanted us to go with him, but in spite of what Penny did, I just cannot stand to see her horribly burned. Jeff will let me bow out of the visit if you go with him. I know you don’t want to go, either, but he’ll insist. He worries me. He’s getting almost pathological about social interaction and having you or me do the talking for him. But this time he really will need a family member with him if he’s going to see Penny.”
“So what’s your plan?”
“You will go with Jeff to the hospital. I’ll beg off, call the Van Etton house, and ask if I can drop by and see Willow. I don’t see how they can say no. I’m the child’s aunt and I’ll be coming instead of Jeff, which should be a relief to them.” Lenore looked at her husband and smiled. “And I’ll act as charmingly ignorant and chatty and disarming as possible until I find out all I can. All right?”
“Better than all right.” Blake reached across the table, hand held up. Lenore raised her own hand, which he clasped and squeezed. “Pure genius, dear Lenore.”
Diana awakened to Willow standing beside her bed regarding her intently with big blue eyes. “I didn’t think you’d ever wake up, and Christabel and Romeo and me are starving.” Romeo, somewhere on the floor beside Willow, let out one of his stentorian quacks. “See? Starving.”
“I didn’t realize the situation was so dire,” Diana mumbled as Christabel jumped up on her bed. “What time is it?”
Diana glanced at her bedside clock. “It’s nine o’clock. Really past breakfast time, but you and I had to catch up on our sleep. Besides, Romeo usually likes a late breakfast.”
The big cat let out another resounding quack, as if proclaiming Diana wrong. “Romeo says he’s hungry now,” Willow told her. “He’d better eat soon or he could get all weak and shaky from not having any food.”
“That’ll be the day!” Diana laughed. “Okay, you three pitiful beings, I’m getting up right now. We’ll all be having breakfast in ten minutes.”
She was slipping on her robe when someone tapped lightly on the door. A moment later Clarice called, “Diana?”
“Yes, come in, Clarice.”
The woman stepped into the bedroom without her walker. She wore a light-blue suit—the only dressy outfit Diana had taken from Clarice’s closet the day before—and low-heeled pumps. She’d pulled her hair into a more elaborate French twist than usual, with small wavy tendrils at her ears and a deeper wave at the left side of her forehead.
“My goodness, you dress well even on a lazy Sunday morning. You look lovely,” Diana said.
Clarice smiled. “Thank you. I always attend Sunday services, and your uncle has offered to be my escort.”
“Uncle Simon is driving you to church?”
“Actually, he insists on attending with me and afterward taking me out for lunch, since I’m having little arthritis pain today. I told him lunch out was entirely unnecessary, but . . . well . . . you know Simon better than I do.”
“Yes, I do,” Diana said faintly. Simon who probably hadn’t been in a church since his sister’s wedding was now not only offering but insisting on taking Clarice? The man who Diana had left on Tuesday morning was not the same man who now waited to take Clarice Hanson to church and out to lunch. Diana smothered a smile. She couldn’t have been happier that her great-uncle was no longer burying himself in his work. “Well, Willow tells me she and the cats are starving. We were just coming down for breakfast.”
“Starving,” Willow repeated for emphasis. “All of us.”
“I’m glad your appetite has come back,” Clarice said to Willow. Christabel trilled sweetly, already prancing toward the door with Romeo scooting top speed behind her. “Actually, Willow, Simon has told me Diana usually doesn’t eat breakfast. She takes a shower then she goes on a long walk and takes pictures with her camera. That’s why I went ahead and made scrambled eggs for you, and Simon will fix the cats’ breakfast. Is that all right?”
Willow looked doubtfully at Diana. “You really don’t eat breakfast?”
“Well, not a real breakfast. Just a piece of toast and some coffee.”
Willow sighed. “Grown-ups! Yes, I would like scrambled eggs, Clarice.”
“Fine. The three of you are going to ride down in the elevator.” Willow clapped her hands. Clarice looked back at Diana. “I’ll send them down and then I’d like a word with you, if you don’t mind,” Clarice said.
Diana had shrugged out of her robe, already heading for the bathroom and the glorious large shower stall, but she froze. Clarice’s face had lost the smile that Diana now realized had been false. Penny is dead, she thought. Penny is dead and Clarice wants to tell me before she tells Willow. She nodded at Clarice, put on the robe again, and thumped down on the edge of the bed, already bracing herself for the news. After the elevator had descended, Romeo let out a triumphant quack. He loved riding in the elevator. Simon shouted up, “Cargo has arrived safely, ladies! We’re off to the kitchen.”
Clarice came back into the room and closed the door behind her. Diana glanced up and said, “Penny has died, hasn’t she?”
Clarice looked at her in surprise, then sympathy. “Oh, heavens, no! Diana, dear, do you think your uncle and I would run off to church and lunch out and leave you and Willow alone if such a thing had happened? We haven’t heard anything from Jeffrey Cavanaugh, but as far as I know, Penny’s condition hasn’t changed.”
Diana realized she’d been holding her breath. She let it out and whispered, “Thank God.”
“Yes, well, that’s what I intend to do at church.” Clarice hovered near the foot of the bed. “Dear, there’s something I need to discuss with you. I wasn’t certain, but I talked with your uncle after you went to bed—after he tucked that fearsome gun away in the fancy box—and he told me you had a right to know what I’ve been withholding from you. Not for very long, but withholding, nevertheless.”
Clarice looked miserable, twining her fingers together, frowning, her violet gaze direct but also reluctant. Diana motioned to the chair across from her bed.
“Have a seat and tell me, Clarice. And please don’t look so unhappy. I’m sure what you have to say can’t be that dreadful.”
“I hope it isn’t.” The woman sat down and looked at her directly. “It’s about Glen.”
“Glen?” Diana repeated in surprise. “Glen Austen?”
“Yes. I didn’t know his name or his connection to you until he came by here yesterday when he heard about Penny. I’ve seen him before, though, Diana.” Clarice hesitated. “I’ve seen him come to Penny’s house.”
“Glen and I took Penny with us to dinner at the country club in May. We picked her up at her house. . . .”
Clarice shook her head. “Not then. Later. When you asked me the night of the explosion if I’d seen anyone come to Penny’s house, I hesitated. Then Simon said he’d been to the house to leave food for Penny the week Willow was in the hospital.
“I didn’t say anything more at the time, but I’ve seen Glen come to her house four times starting around two months ago,” Clarice continued in a hesitant voice. “Two of those times, Willow had told me she was spending the night with her friend. Each time Glen came, he stayed at least an hour. Another time, Penny had just come home from a lecture held at the university and she’d left Willow with me. Glen arrived immediately after she’d pulled in her driveway. They went inside and he stayed about an hour.”
Clarice looked at Diana cautiously, as if she expected a cry of distress or a stricken expression. When Diana didn’t respond, the woman went on a bit more confidently. “After he left, Penny rushed over, apologizing profusely, and saying someone she knew from a class she took during the school year had been at the lecture, too, and simply invited himself home with her.
“But she was flustered and embarrassed and I knew she was lying, Diana. I knew it and I was surprised,” Clarice went on. “I could not understand why Penny would lie to me if she’d met someone she liked, someone she wanted to date. She would have known I’d be happy for her. I was also puzzled that although he’d been to her house before, they didn’t seem to be having a normal dating relationship.” Clarice took a breath. “Do you want me to go on, Diana? You look pale. . . .”
“I’m surprised but I’m fine,” Diana said flatly. “I want to hear it all.”
“All right. The last time I saw Glen was Wednesday night—two nights before the explosion. He arrived around nine o’clock—it was still barely light out. The evening was cooler than usual and so quiet. I’d turned off the air conditioning and raised my window and . . . well, I was spying, I might as well admit it.”
Clarice colored faintly. “Penny didn’t immediately let him inside. I overheard her saying she was tired after spending so long at the hospital with Willow, she didn’t feel well and would just like to go to bed, but Glen said he’d only stay a few minutes. From what I could see, he had pushed himself halfway in all ready. Finally, Penny opened the door.
“I’m not ashamed to say I kept watching,” Clarice said almost defiantly. “Glen had been so . . . well, almost aggressive when Penny obviously wanted to be alone. I was worried about her. Then I saw another car pull up and park across the street. By then daylight was almost gone and I couldn’t see the figure in the car until the door opened briefly. Someone got out, looking as if they were going to Penny’s, hesitated and then got back in the car. When the car’s inside lights came on, though, I saw that the driver was a young woman. You can imagine how astonished I was when on Saturday morning your housekeeper arrived and she turned out to be the woman I’d seen watching Glen when he was at Penny’s—Nan Murphy.”
By now Diana was sitting so far forward on the side of her bed that she slid and almost fell on the floor. She caught herself and Clarice gasped. “Oh, dear, I’ve shocked you! I told Simon this would be too much for you. Please don’t faint, Diana. Glen isn’t worth one of your tears.”
Diana scooted back on the bed, but her thoughts spun so fast for a moment that she couldn’t form a coherent sentence. Meanwhile Clarice went into the bathroom and came back with a Dixie cup full of cold water. “Sip this slowly,” she ordered. “Oh, I just feel terrible for upsetting you, but Simon said you could handle it, you can handle anything. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you and somehow you’re not like other women at all—you’re emotionally stronger and able to cope with all situations and—”
“Clarice, I’m all right,” Diana finally interrupted. “I’m not all those things Simon would like to think I am, but I certainly can handle the news that Glen was pursuing another woman. Or maybe two other women.” Diana tried for a smile, although she was still too stunned for it to be genuine. “Clarice, I have no strong feelings for Glen. I like him but I’ve just been drifting along with him for months, too lazy to break things off between us. I was never in love with him—not even close. Honestly, I’m not hurt and you mustn’t feel bad for telling me all of this. Simon was right—I needed to know.”
“Oh, thank goodness.” Clarice dropped back onto the chair and began fanning herself with a magazine she’d grabbed from Diana’s nightstand. “I could hardly sleep last night—I’d seen both Nan and Glen yesterday and I realized they had a connection even though Glen appeared to be your young man. I just had to ask for Simon’s advice because he knows you better than anyone does. Even when Simon said I should tell you, though, I wasn’t sure.”
“You did the right thing.” Diana paused then began talking almost to herself. “Penny knew exactly how I felt about Glen. I don’t know why if he’d begun to pay attention to her, she wouldn’t have told me. She couldn’t possibly have thought I would be hurt.”
“Penny seems to have had many secrets,” Clarice said sadly. “I wonder if any of us really knew her.”
“Well, I know most people would think I’m an absolute fool for believing this, but I think we knew the real Penny—her soul or spirit or whatever you want to call it, which lay buried under all her secrets. I can’t help feeling that she was essentially a good person, but something had her trapped, Clarice. After all, she didn’t run off with Jeffrey Cavanaugh’s money. Also it’s easy to say Penny taught Willow to fear Jeffrey so Willow would never go looking for him, but Penny wouldn’t terrify her five-year-old daughter just so she’d never seek out Jeffrey when she got older. That would be cruel, and Penny was not cruel, I don’t care what anyone says. I believe she had a good reason for leaving Cavanaugh. Maybe another man was involved, but Penny felt that flight and a life of concealment were the only way to escape Jeffrey. And something or someone had her scared out of her mind this week.”
“But it couldn’t have been Jeffrey,” Clarice said. “He didn’t know where she was until after the explosion.”
“Or so he says. I don’t like him and I don’t trust him. I don’t trust any of them—not Jeffrey, not Blake, not Lenore.” And not Tyler Raines, Diana knew she should add, but for some reason she couldn’t include him with the Cavanaugh group. She didn’t know what part he played in this drama, but he didn’t seem to fit with the three people she’d met last night.
“As for Glen . . .” Diana shrugged. “For some reason, I can’t imagine Penny being attracted to Glen. He’s not at all the kind of man I would pick for her. Of course, I dated him for months, and he isn’t the kind of man I’d fall in love with, either. And as you said, they certainly weren’t having a normal dating relationship. A few sexual trysts? Maybe. After all, Glen and I weren’t involved sexually.” Clarice turned pink again. “Maybe Glen was wildly attracted to Penny. Frankly, I just wasn’t paying enough attention to him to notice.”
“He’s a nice-looking young man,” Clarice offered weakly. “And he’s your uncle’s good friend.”
“Uncle Simon likes him—that’s not the same as Simon considering him a good friend. He wasn’t even too happy that I dated Glen for so long. He always told me I should be seeing someone else—someone with ‘fire.’ ” Diana smiled ruefully. “If Glen was involved with both Nan and Penny, I guess Simon underestimated his amount of fire.”
Clarice glanced down at her clasped hands, clearly embarrassed. “Well, I wouldn’t know. When I spoke with Glen yesterday, I really wasn’t thinking of him in those terms,” she said almost primly.
Clarice’s head jerked up when Diana laughed. “No, I guess you weren’t! My lord, how astounded you must have been when he arrived presenting himself as my boyfriend. After you’d already discovered the woman who’d followed him to Penny’s—Nan—was our temporary housekeeper, I don’t know how you managed to maintain your composure at all. You’re a wonder, Clarice!”
Clarice smiled. “I don’t think I’m a wonder, dear. I was terribly uncomfortable having to talk to him while Simon went up to Willow’s room to get you. I fled the library as soon as you arrived.”
Diana let the silence hang, thinking. Then she asked, “When Nan was parked outside of Penny’s house, did Glen see her when he left?”
“Oh, no. She’d started her car and crept away around ten minutes before he came out the front door.”
“What was Glen’s parting with Penny like? Did he kiss her at the door?”
“Heavens, no! Penny’s screen door flung back so hard it hit the house. Glen stomped out onto her porch, stood for a minute, then turned around and nearly yelled, ‘You’re making a big mistake, Penny.’ ”
Diana stared at Clarice. “He said she was making a big mistake?” Clarice nodded. “Of course, you couldn’t know what he meant. Maybe it was her leaving Huntington. Simon was in her house—he said packed boxes were sitting around. Glen would have seen them. He would have known Penny was leaving even if she hadn’t told him.”
“Glen could have thought she was just moving to a different house. Maybe she was.”
“If that were so, she would have told one of us. She didn’t tell you, Uncle Simon, or me. And why would Glen think that was a big mistake? Also, don’t forget she did say something to me and to you that sounded as if she’d never see us again.” Diana shook her head. “I’m sure Penny wasn’t moving to a different neighborhood, Clarice. She was on the run again.”
“And Glen didn’t want her to go.”
“Either that, or he didn’t want her to go and leave him out of the picture. Even if she was having a sexual relationship with him, if she thought she needed to get out of town, she probably wouldn’t tell him where she was going. That would let him know just how little she cared about him. Or maybe she was leaving because of him. That would really set him off because Glen does not react well to rejection.”
“Oh my,” Clarice almost whispered. “Do you think he’s capable of violence?”
“I really don’t know. Then, to top off the mess, Nan knew Glen was seeing Penny. She watched him that very night.” Diana hesitated, suddenly feeling as if something hard and cold was settling in her stomach. “Clarice,” she said softly, “Glen got mad at Penny, and Nan saw Glen at Penny’s house on Wednesday night. Tempers must have been running hot. On Thursday night, I got a call from Penny saying she must talk to me—it was a matter of life and death.”
Clarice’s eyes widened. “Do you mean on Thursday night she was afraid because either Glen or Nan had threatened her?”
“Maybe,” Diana said vaguely, but she wasn’t thinking about threats. She was thinking about the bomb that had exploded in Penny’s home the very next night.