19 ACROSS: Rare excellence; appealing perfection
Stonewood Grill was leather and wood and casual elegance. Cassie decided she probably could have left the pearls behind after all, but they wouldn’t hurt anything now.
Steven Hearns had already arrived, and he was seated at a large booth.
“You remember Cassie Constantine?” Richard said. She could see from Steven’s expression that he was rather stunned by her presence.
“I do. Good to see you again.”
Once they’d slipped into the booth across from him, Richard reassured Steven. “Cassie knows pretty much everything. It’s fine to talk in front of her.”
“I was wondering,” he replied. “Good—because I have a lot to tell. Shall we order some appetizers?”
Richard nodded. “What do you suggest?”
The waiter arrived as if on cue, and Steven asked him for smoked salmon and baked Brie. Richard added three mineral waters, and Cassie could sense his anticipation.
“What have you got for me?”
“Richard never was one for suspense,” Steven told Cassie. “He doesn’t enjoy the buildup.”
“I’m not a big fan of it either,” she admitted.
“All right, all right,” he said, producing a file folder from the seat beside him and opening it on the table.
Steven reached into the pocket of his sport coat, pulled out wire-framed glasses, and placed them on his substantial nose. He scanned the paperwork for a moment and then looked up at Richard over the top of the lenses.
“I think you were correct in your assumption that something’s up with Nesbitt,” he said. Richard squirmed slightly and then leaned forward to the edge of the table. “He did work for Mandalay once upon a time—you were right about that—but he’s not involved with them now. For the last three years, he’s been employed by a corporate entity out of New York called Pressman Ventures. They’re basically a much smaller version of Mandalay. Land development, resort properties, and the like, but not on the scale of Mandalay.”
Richard cast Cassie a quick glance, and she could sense that his anxiety level was cranking upward.
“Last year Nesbitt was a key player in a questionable development in Pennsylvania. It was a sweet deal for him, really. Somehow he knew that Mandalay was going to develop a resort community, despite the fact that he didn’t work there anymore. He swooped in, bought up three or four properties in the area, and then had them in his pocket as bargaining chips.”
“I don’t understand,” Cassie interjected. “He bought the properties and then held on to them?”
“Until Mandalay had acquired every other property necessary to make their deal happen. And then he emerged as the last man standing and demanded quite a hefty profit on those properties. He made something like half a million dollars on that one deal.”
“Half a million!” she exclaimed. He should spend some of it on charm school.
“So it is Mandalay that wants to move in on Holiday, then?” Richard asked him.
“That’s the interesting part,” Steven explained. He paused while the waiter delivered the appetizers and drinks.
“Can I take your orders now?” he asked.
“We’re going to wait a bit,” Steven replied. “We’ll give you a shout when we’re ready.”
“My name is Tim, if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Tim.” Steven waited for a moment and then picked up where he left off. “Anyway, it’s not Mandalay that’s invested in developing anything in Holiday. It appears to be Pressman Ventures, his own company.”
“That doesn’t make sense,” Cassie said to Richard. “He didn’t work for Mandalay anymore when he bought the properties in Pennsylvania, so it didn’t matter. But now he works at Pressman, and they’re the ones who want to develop Holiday? Would he take a chance on outsmarting his own company and possibly losing his job? Surely Pressman Ventures wouldn’t take kindly to him moving in on their deal. With Mandalay, he had nothing to lose because, as you said, he didn’t work for them anymore.” She looked at Steven as she finished.
“Maybe he has a partner,” Richard offered. “Maybe someone from his old days at Mandalay, someone who gave him the information about Pennsylvania. Then Hunter went in and did the actual buying.”
“My guess would be,” Steven said, pausing to finish his mineral water, “that’s the suit you saw with him at the golf course.”
“So Hunter has a friend who still works at Mandalay who advises his own company to buy in that particular area,” Richard surmised. “Then he feeds the information to Hunter, who steps in and acts as the front man for the deal. Afterward, he siphons in the information to Pressman about the place, and his friend from Mandalay plows the road on that one.”
“Oooh,” Cassie said, shaking her head, “Stella will flip her wig when she realizes the game he’s playing.”
“The good news for you, my friend,” Steven told Richard, “will be if this guy’s aunt has any influence over him at all. If she can put a stop to him starting the ball rolling in her own little neighborhood—”
“And no one will sell to Pressman once they hear about this, Richard.”
“I don’t think we can assume that,” he replied. He looked at Steven. “Do you have solid proof about Nesbitt’s involvement in the Mandalay deal?”
“Would his signature on the paperwork be enough proof for you?”
A smile slid across Richard’s face, and Cassie’s heart thumped at the reappearance of those parenthetical dimples of his.
“He didn’t buy the property, but he did arrange for the inspection beforehand. Now there’s no guarantee that it will all work out the way you want it to,” Steve told him. “But it’s some core information.”
“That’s what I wanted.”
“And that’s what you have,” Steven said with a smile. “Now you gotta try this salmon. It’ll knock you out.”
Once they were in the car on the way back to Holiday, Cassie was pretty sure she had eaten that much in one sitting before, but she certainly couldn’t remember when. The satisfied fullness gave a half-court press against her ribs, and she leaned back into the seat in an effort to give her digestion some room to operate.
When they pulled into her driveway back in Holiday and Richard shut off the car, Cassie jerked and realized she’d been dozing.
“I wasn’t very good company on the ride home,” she said on a grin. “I’m sorry. I’m like a fat and happy dog. Feed me and then I go to sleep.”
“You bear no resemblance whatsoever to a fat and happy dog,” Richard assured her.
Cassie squeezed his wrist. “Nice to know.”
“Looks like Millicent received some company.”
A dark blue Taurus was bellied up to the curb in front of the mailbox, but Cassie didn’t recognize it.
“I wonder who it is.”
“Let’s go find out,” Richard said, and he pushed open his door.
He grabbed the take-out bag from Stonewood Grill and then quickly rounded the car and opened Cassie’s door, taking her hand to help her out.
“It’s official,” she said. “I’m a salmon-stuffed sausage.”
“It would be worth the drive out to New Tampa just to have that on a regular basis,” Richard concurred. “But I’m developing some fins myself. I’m thinking that second platter we ordered might have been a little much.”
Cassie chuckled. “Ya think?”
Richard placed his hand on Cassie’s shoulder as they meandered up the sidewalk, and she pushed open the front door and stepped inside.
The television was tuned to Animal Planet, and Sophie was sacked out on the sofa, watching it intently. Millicent was seated at the dining room table with the overhead chandelier turned to full-on bright. A game of Scrabble was in progress, and Cassie blinked when she saw who was seated across the board from Millicent.
It can’t be. But that looks like—
“Debra?”
“Hi, Mom.”
Her daughter’s smile brightened the rest of the house and the neighborhood, too.
“What are you doing here?”
Debra pushed up from the chair, and Cassie noticed her little baby bump right away. She hurried toward her and wrapped her arms around Debra, rocking her from side to side as tears sprang to her eyes and cascaded down her face.
“It’s so good to see you.”
“You, too,” Debra sniffed, and Cassie realized that her daughter was crying, too.
She pulled back and dabbed the tears from Debra’s face with her index finger. “Stop that now.”
“I’ve missed you so much,” she told Cassie.
Cassie grinned at Millicent and then turned back toward Richard where he stood in the arched doorway to the living room. “I’m sorry, Richard. Please come and meet my daughter, Debra. This is my friend, Richard Dillon.”
They exchanged greetings, and Richard grasped Debra’s hand between both of his. “I’ve heard so much about you that I feel like we’ve already met,” he told her. “Congratulations on the baby.”
“Thank you,” Debra told him. “I haven’t had the same pleasure. Mom’s told me nothing about you at all.”
Cassie recognized the arch of her daughter’s brow—most likely subtle and barely noticeable to anyone else, but not to her.
“Millicent roped me into taking a ballroom dancing class with her at the seniors’ ministry over at church, and Richard is the instructor.”
“But we really met before that,” Richard reminded her. “When the Hootzes’ boat demolished your dock.”
“Oh, that’s right!” she replied, and the two of them laughed. “Do you remember George and Georgette Hootz, Deb?”
“I think so.”
“I made tea,” Millicent said. “Can I get some for you two?”
“Oh, dear, no,” Cassie answered. “I ate so much at dinner that I might just spring a leak if I add anything before it settles.”
“Millicent, we brought you dessert,” Richard said. “Do you want it now, or shall I put it in the refrigerator for later?”
“Fridge, dear. Thank you.”
“Where did you go for dinner?” Debra asked as Richard popped the bag into the refrigerator and stepped back into the dining room.
“A place called the Stonewood Grill,” Cassie said as she sank into one of the chairs. Debra and Richard followed suit. “It was fantastic.”
“Stonewood Grill?” she asked. “Mitch and I ate at one of those in North Carolina, I think. It was awesome.”
“Oooh, it’s a chain? Do they have them in Boston, I wonder?”
“I don’t know,” Debra replied. She reached over and rubbed her mother’s hand. “I love the improvements you’ve made on the house, by the way. It’s so inviting.”
“Isn’t it wonderful? Did you see the glass hanging in the window of the master bath?”
“I did. Millicent gave me the full tour. It’s really spectacular. She says you might have a bite for a sale, though. From a big corporation or something?”
Cassie and Richard exchanged glances.
“I’m not going to be taking that offer,” Cassie said. Millicent darted her attention toward her.
“You’re not?”
“No. Richard and I found out some things tonight, Millicent. Very important things about who that corporation is and what’s really going on.”
Millicent hopped to her feet but didn’t leave the spot. She just stood there looking somewhat terrified and glanced first at Cassie, then at Richard, and then back again.
“We’ll tell you everything, Millicent, I promise,” Richard told her. “But I’d like to wait until tomorrow, if that’s all right with you.”
“And we’d like to tell you with Stella here,” Cassie added.
“Stella.”
“She’s going to want to hear what Richard has to say.”
“Is it…bad news?” Millicent asked, her hand clutching her dress just over her heart.
Richard got up from his chair and walked around the table and then put his arm around Millicent and kissed her on the top of her head.
“It is not bad news, my darling. Not for you. You’re not going to be moving out of your house, and neither is Stella.”
Millicent looked to Cassie. When she nodded at the woman, Millicent gave a shaky sigh so heavy that Cassie thought it must have been building up inside her lungs for a very long time.
“How about we start a new Scrabble game?” Debra suggested. “Mom and Richard can play, too.”
Millicent nodded, and Richard helped her back to her chair.
“She was wiping the floor with me, anyway,” Debra told them as she emptied the tiles on the board back into the box. “I’m happy to have an excuse for a do-over.”
“Do-overs are good,” Cassie commented as she turned over the tiles so that all of the letters faced downward.
“So, Mom.”
“So, Debra,” Cassie retorted as she swept eggs from the pan to the plate the next morning.
Debra leaned against the counter, jutting out her already-protruding belly. “What’s going on with you and Richard Dillon, huh?”
“There’s blackberry jam in the fridge. Why don’t you grab it and come to the table?” Cassie responded as she passed her with two full plates in her hands.
Debra scurried to the refrigerator, found the jar of preserves, and followed her mother to the dining room table. She sat down across from her and placed a napkin on her lap as she remarked, “The two of you seem to be connected. How long have you been seeing him?”
Cassie thought about telling her daughter that she wasn’t seeing Richard, that it was only a casual friendship and nothing more. But she couldn’t seem to manage it. “The truth is,” she began, before pausing for a bite of scrambled eggs, “if I was staying in Holiday, I’d be excited about pursuing something with him to see where it led. But I’m going home soon.”
“When is that?”
“I’m not sure. A few days, or maybe next week.”
“So the two of you aren’t…?”
“Aren’t what?”
“Pursuing anything.”
“No,” she replied. “It’s just kind of rolling along.”
“What does that mean, exactly? I mean, where are you rolling?”
“Debra Constantine Rudolph, you watch your tone.”
“I’m just worried about you, Mom. Daddy hasn’t been gone very long, and I’m afraid you might slip into something because you’re lonely. I mean, Daddy was a big presence.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Learning to live without that presence can’t be easy.”
“No, it’s not.”
“And I think that would leave the door open for someone to walk right through and lead you somewhere that you weren’t…I don’t know…meant to go.”
“Debra, there are no doors open here, no leading or going. It’s just two people, both of whom have lost their mates, finding some common ground in one another.”
“That’s it?”
“Are you asking me if I’m attracted to Richard?”
“I wasn’t going to ask. But are you?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Mom!” Debra gasped, and she set her fork down across the center of her plate.
“What? Your father died, Debra. I did not. It’s going to happen every third or fourth blue moon that I am going to meet someone that I connect with in some way. It doesn’t mean I didn’t love your father or that I’ve moved on from losing him…because, frankly, I’m not convinced that could ever happen. All it means is that I’m a human being searching out some joy and passion in what’s left of my life.”
“Joy and passion,” Debra repeated. “And Richard Dillon makes you feel joyful? Passionate?”
“Actually, he does…surprisingly enough.”
“Have you… Have you kissed him?”
Cassie set down her own fork, folded her hands on the edge of the table, and stared Debra down for a long moment.
“Let me be crystal clear about something,” she replied. “This is none of your business. And just because you and I have a close relationship, which I’m very glad about, that does not mean by any stretch of the imagination that you are entitled to every detail of my life. Do you understand that?”
“Yes,” Debra said on a sigh as she looked away. “I’m sorry. You’re right. I’ve just got to get used to the idea that my mother—”
“But, yes, I’ve kissed him.”
Debra’s eyes darted back to her, but she didn’t say a word.
“I like him very much, Debra,” she said, stopping herself short of the whole truth. “He’s a dear, sweet man, and he’s been very kind to me. I like almost everything about him, and we’re very compatible. But that’s as far as it goes. All right?”
“Yes.”
“But if that wasn’t as far as it went—”
“I know.”
“It wouldn’t be—”
“—any of my business.”
“Up until the time I decide to marry him or move to Holiday to be closer to him, this would be none of your business. Correct.”
Debra picked up her fork and began pushing her eggs around on the plate.
“I’m sorry.”
“You’re forgiven.” Cassie twisted open the lid on the preserves and spread some on her toast. “Now tell me about your plans. Why did you come, and how long can you stay?”
“I was reminiscing with Mitch the other night about all the fun times we had down here, and it occurred to me that I wanted to do this with you.”
“Do what?”
“I wanted to be here with you one last time, and I wanted to help you get the place ready to sell.”
“It’s pretty much ready, honey. I don’t think there’s much else to do except the packing, and we’re not having you do any of that in your condition.”
“I just didn’t want you to have to do it alone.”
“Thank you, sweetheart,” Cassie replied.
“I couldn’t believe it when I pulled up and saw those flamingos out on the lawn.” Debra cackled with the remembrance. “I remember Daddy telling me about them when he bought them…and about the fights the two of you were having over where they would stay.”
“Or if they would stay at all,” Cassie said on a chuckle.
“I would have thought that you’d have thrown them away without a single hesitation. And then there they were, in the yard, underneath the palm tree that was strung up with lights. What brought that about?”
Cassie pointed at the crystal box sitting on the table.
“A ‘Surprise Yourself’ box. I got one of those for Lacy for Christmas. She’s the girl I work with in the nursery at church.”
“I pulled a card that said something like, ‘Do something you said you never would do,’ ” Cassie confessed.
Debra laughed, and then Cassie started giggling right along with her.
“Well, keeping them was certainly something you said you’d never do. Planting them out there in the yard for the world to see, well, that was downright beyond.”
“Those flamingos are beyond,” Cassie teased.
“Can I have them?”
Cassie looked up at Debra, inspecting her face to see if she was serious.
“You hate them, and if you’re going to throw them away—”
“I’m kind of attached to them now,” Cassie admitted. “But I promise if I ever get the urge to toss them into the trash, I’ll save them for you instead. Deal?”
“Deal,” Debra said with a smile. “By the way, I was looking at one of the crosswords Daddy made for you last night. The one that Millicent was working.”
“What?” Cassie’s heart tried to stop, and then it thumped over the obstacle in the road. “What do you mean?”
“When I arrived, she was sitting here at the table working one of Dad’s crosswords. See? Right there.”
Cassie snatched the folded piece of paper tucked under the flowers at the center of the table. When she opened it and laid it flat before her, tears sprang to her eyes. The entire puzzle was filled in.
“Mom, what’s wrong?”
“I’ve been taking my time with it, working it a little bit at a time,” Cassie told her. “Kind of savoring the last things your father thought about me.”
“Ohhh. So you didn’t tell Millicent it was all right to finish it.”
“I wouldn’t have told her that or anyone else.”
“Oh, Mom. I’m sorry.”
Cassie ironed the page with a flattened hand and then stroked it gently.
“I thought they were really nice words to describe you, though,” Debra said in a tone that overemphasized the hope that she could find some way to make her mother feel a little better. “I mean, exquisite and flawless? Those are pretty romantic notions for a man to have about his wife of twenty-five years.”
Cassie scanned the page, searching for those particular words. She stared at them, her brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed to a squint.
Those really are romantic and wonderful.
The adjectives that stood out in her memory from years past pinched her with regret rather than encouraged her. She’d spent years upon years wondering often whether Zan was describing his wife or a dependable used car.
Her thoughts fluttered back to Richard. He’d suggested that the clue for the ten-letter word Zan had used to describe her pointed to passionate, and she’d assured him that he was wrong, quite certain that Zan wouldn’t have referenced her in that way. He saw her more like eager and enthusiastic, like the cocker spaniel down the street. But passionate?
16 Across: Compelled by intense emotions; fervent.
And Millicent had penciled in the answer in confident block letters: Passionate.
“I’m going to grab a shower, okay?”
“Hmm? Sure, honey. Go ahead.”
Cassie inspected the completed puzzle more closely, and she scratched her head.
Perhaps Zan had begun seeing the things in Cassie that she was going to be. After he was gone and it was too late to enjoy those qualities in her. That was the only explanation. She was always an average woman with average strengths. There was nothing really out of the ordinary about her that she could think of.
I’ve never been what one would consider passionate.
She swallowed hard and then checked the clue again.
Have I?