§ § § -- October 31, 1982
"So what about this party?" Tattoo asked as they were coasting down the Ring Road in a rover around eleven.
Leslie had sat up in the middle seat so that Tattoo and Roarke could hear. "From what Cassie and Taylor say, it's so Michelle can announce her engagement. I guess they think the guy's really stuffy and snobbish, but he has a lot of money."
Roarke and Tattoo looked at each other, both with surprise. "So the young lady is marrying for money, then," Roarke mused.
"That's what Taylor and Cassie think. Funny, I'm not really so sure. I can see why she would, but Michelle doesn't seem so much like the type to me. She's a lot less brassy than Taylor. Even less than Cassie actually. She tries to look happy when she mentions the engagement, but I can tell her heart isn't in it, so I think she is marrying him for money."
"I thought they wanted to leave," Tattoo remarked. "I remember when you met Taylor, you said she complained all the time about how boring this island is and how she wanted to go home."
"They couldn't. Well, at least not right now. Cassie said Michelle's fiancé wanted to have the engagement party and the wedding here on the island, and they might as well go ahead and open their house here in order to do that, even if Michelle had to put it up for sale after. But this wedding is designed to prevent that. Anyway, I think Cassie likes it here. I don't exactly know about Taylor, but at least she's stopped complaining and wishing she were back in New York City all the time."
"Why do you suppose they left in the first place?" asked Tattoo.
"Probably a lot of gossip," Leslie said, wrinkling her nose.
"Undoubtedly," Roarke agreed, pulling into the Enclave's access road, which was lined with cars on both sides. "It appears that many of the guests have already arrived. Why don't we check in with the, uh, butler, and find out how things are going so far."
No one was at the front door, though, and they let themselves in and made their way through the formal living room to the patio at the side of the house, where the party was already under way. They found Jimmy Jordan out there circulating with a tray of drinks, making sure the catered buffet was well-stocked (which Leslie knew it was, since it was Maureen's mother's company), and seeing to everyone's general well-being. The conversations were quiet, and Leslie thought the whole thing seemed too refined, even for a rich people's party.
Suddenly Michelle burst out of one of the patio doors, grabbed Jimmy's arm and towed him back inside; Leslie edged near the door to find out what the fuss was about, since Maureen wasn't here today for her to talk to. She was in time to hear Michelle exclaim, "You've got to do something—the piano player says he's leaving, and—"
"You haven't even played yet," Jimmy said, disgusted.
The man in question turned around then, and Leslie gasped; it was the same man who had tried to hit on Taylor back at the pond restaurant! Jimmy stared at him and blurted, "You're the piano player…"
"You got it, pal," the "stud" retorted coldly. "And you can bet I'm leaving." Cassie came in then to see what the trouble was, just as he pointed at a sulking Taylor standing in the corner and added, "If I'd known this 'lady' here was your sister, I'd've never come here in the first place." Michelle's eyes rolled around to Jimmy in abject pleading.
"He-he won't play until Taylor apologizes and Taylor won't apologize and the Winslows'll be here any minute and unless we have live music for the party the whole party will be a flop," she said in a breathless rush, her soft voice growing wobbly with impending tears as she wound up the run-on sentence. She stared at Jimmy as if expecting something; Jimmy floundered, and Michelle finally did begin to break down. "What's the use…everything's ruined," she moaned and collapsed onto the long white sofa, blotting at tears with a lacy handkerchief. "I never could do anything right…" Jimmy shot a meaningful look at the piano player, who merely rolled his eyes mockingly.
Cassie drew in a breath and volunteered, "I know who can play—and sing."
Michelle lifted her face and demanded incredulously, "For God's sake, who?"
"Godfrey!" Cassie said brightly.
Jimmy looked up and Leslie blinked from her post near the door. Michelle protested tearfully, "Oh, Cassie, this is no time for games!"
"Don't be ridiculous," Jimmy muttered nervously, adjusting his tie.
Cassie went to stand in front of him, a glare building in her eyes. "Look, you like Michelle—I know you do. You just gonna stand there and let her cry?"
"Cassie, you don't understand," Jimmy insisted under his breath.
But Cassie's face closed over. "I understand fine. You know, you really are a creep." She turned away from him, face filled with disillusionment.
Jimmy looked at Taylor, then at a softly crying Michelle, and finally at Cassie, before leaning over the back of the sofa and murmuring, "You know, I really do a wonderful Jimmy Jordan impression." Cassie lit up, and he winked at her and headed for the patio, giving Leslie another wink on his way out. She trailed him, followed by all three sisters and even the would-be piano player.
Sure enough, Jimmy launched into his own "impression of himself", playing and singing "I Got the Music in Me" for the surprised benefit of the partygoers. Tattoo stood beside the piano and Leslie behind him, watching Jimmy's fingers flying over the keys in his usual flamboyant style, so at odds with his new clean-cut appearance.
Then Cassie sidled up to the side of the piano and Tattoo turned to say something to her; Leslie followed his movement, and they both realized Cassie was holding a miniature cassette recorder in one hand, with the tape inside going. They looked at each other, and Tattoo shot Cassie a disapproving expression before returning his attention to Jimmy. Leslie edged around Tattoo and muttered to the younger girl, "What're you doing with that, anyway?" Cassie only smirked.
The piano player sauntered out and remarked, "Not bad…if you don't mind cheap imitations, you know what I mean? You better let me take over."
"Sure," Jimmy murmured without further ado, and stepped aside for the arrogant man. As he took his seat and Jimmy retreated to resume his butler duties, Michelle caught up with him.
"Thank you," she said.
Jimmy smiled up at her. "My pleasure," he said, and for a moment or two they stood looking shyly at each other, little smiles on their faces. After a moment he gestured vaguely over his shoulder and added, "Guess I better get back to work," and left.
Tattoo turned to Cassie then and asked the same question Leslie had failed to get an answer to. "What're you doing with that machine?"
This time Cassie leaned eagerly forward to explain. "I'm getting proof he's really Jimmy Jordan. Voices are as distinctive as fingerprints, Tattoo." She fielded their looks and said casually, "Oh, I learned that on Hart to Hart." Tattoo nodded and looked back at Leslie, who stared after Cassie for a second or two and then rolled her eyes and shook her head.
"So where'd Mr. Roarke go?" she wanted to know.
"Said he was gonna check up on Miss Barclay," Tattoo replied. "He'll be back in a little while. Come on, you might as well have something to eat. I have to join him."
She started over to the buffet, and as Leslie reached for a plate she could have sworn she saw something moving in the bushes. But when she looked, nobody was there, and she dismissed the sighting as some sort of hunger-induced hallucination.
‡ ‡ ‡
Andrea was peering critically at a life-size cutout of Lillie Langtry when she heard Roarke's voice from the doorway. "Lillie Langtry was truly a great performer, wasn't she?"
"I don't know," Andrea said. "And I guess no one around here will, unless…" Her voice trailed off, and Roarke watched with interest; he had brought Leslie and Tattoo up to speed on this fantasy at breakfast that morning, explaining how Lillie Langtry had evidently stood up Judge Roy Bean—the man who had forcibly removed Andrea from the stage the day before—and then had appeared from nowhere in the midst of a song Andrea was singing for the judge, acting sweet but condescending. Worse, the woman had declined to sing for the judge and his little town, leaving Bean in a deep blue funk.
Before he could respond, Andrea started and gasped. "Mr. Roarke! Do you always sneak up on people like that?"
"I'm sorry if I startled you, Miss Barclay," Roarke apologized, advancing into the room with Tattoo at his side.
"Mr. Roarke, I'm glad you showed up. I…I'd like to make a deal with you."
"Deal?" he repeated curiously.
"I'll give up my fantasy if…if you'll help Roy?"
"Give up your fantasy?" Tattoo exclaimed. "But you've been dreaming about this for a long time! Like my boss says, you're very talented."
Andrea smiled at him. "Thank you, Tattoo. But if Lillie Langtry doesn't sing here tonight, Roy's name will be mud for the rest of history!"
Roarke said, "Well, you cannot be held responsible for Mr. Bean's boasting, Miss Barclay. Still, legend does say that Lillie Langtry sang here once. Hmm…I wonder how we could fulfill the legend, as well as your fantasy?…" He considered it a moment, then turned to her and Tattoo with a smile. "Tattoo."
Instantly Tattoo whipped a gun out of a holster beneath his jacket and thrust it at Andrea, who flinched back. "Here. This may give you an idea."
Andrea stared at Roarke, who gestured at the cutout of Lillie Langtry; and all of a sudden her face lit up. "Do you think I could substitute for her? If I had the right disguise?" She lifted the gun and examined it with a faintly revolted look while Roarke and Tattoo watched. "They can't be that far out of town yet. If I can stop them…well, if I can't talk her into singing for this town, then I'll just…I'll just improvise." She grinned. "Thanks for the idea, Tattoo." With that she scuttled out of the room, and Roarke and Tattoo watched her go, both grinning.
"Looks like she's gonna be just fine," Tattoo remarked.
Roarke grinned. "I believe you're right, my friend. We'd better get back."
They returned unobtrusively to the party, dressed in their usual white suits once more, to find that Leslie and Cassie were anxiously prowling the patio and about to go inside. "Is something wrong, Leslie?"
"We can't find J—Godfrey," Leslie said, barely catching herself in time. She didn't care if Cassie thought she knew who he was; she was determined not to blow the rocker's cover. "He was supposed to be getting more champagne…"
"Look there," Tattoo spoke up and pointed. Leslie and Cassie looked around in time to notice the front door standing open, drifting slowly aside, as though someone had rushed through it.
"Come on," Leslie blurted, and Cassie gasped and fled through the living room, Leslie hard on her heels. In the foyer they could see two mean-looking men—the ones, Leslie now saw, she had seen watching their altercation with the piano player at the pond restaurant—wrestling Jimmy toward a waiting car. The girls looked at each other.
"Godfrey!" Cassie cried, springing into action and leaping the steps with Leslie a couple of paces behind. "Godfrey! It worked, they fell for it—everybody thought it was you singing and playing. Wasn't he great? No one had any idea he was just moving his hands and lips to this song from the Jordan Jams album." With that, she clicked on the little tape recorder in her hand, and Jimmy's freshly-recorded live performance blared out of the speaker. Leslie hung back about halfway up the walk, deeply admiring Cassie for her quick thinking. The two men stared at her, and Jimmy peered at her in amazement while Cassie went on glibly, "And you had Mr. Applebaum fooled completely. You know, he's a Hollywood producer, and I'm trying to convince him that Godfrey should play the part of Jimmy Jordan in his TV movie." She went on snapping her fingers to the song, while Jimmy's would-be abductors looked on with mounting confusion. "Godfrey even looks like Jimmy Jordan, don't you think?"
Jimmy tried a wan little smile and ventured, "Jordan's a little taller…" Leslie had to consciously keep her face straight at that.
Cassie reached out and grabbed his arm. "Come on, Godfrey, Applebaum wants to talk to you." She yanked him toward her as she spoke, then peered at the two men with surprised curiosity. "Where're you guys going, anyway?"
"Uh…no place," said the one already behind the wheel of the car, as his companion got into the back seat.
"Somebody must've made a mistake," contributed Jimmy.
"Yeah, right," agreed Cassie, already herding him toward the house. Leslie joined them on their way in, marveling at the fifteen-year-old; she strongly suspected Taylor would never have had the gumption, or the ability, to pull that off.
"Now do you see why I didn't want to play?" Jimmy demanded.
"Just tell me what's going on," Cassie demanded, just as Roarke and Tattoo appeared from somewhere across the yard and completed their little entourage.
"Uh, Cassie…Godfrey…on the way to the party, I ran into someone trying to deliver a telegram. I, uh, took the liberty of accepting it, on behalf of Michelle." He handed Jimmy a small envelope; the rocker blinked.
"Telegram!" He grabbed Cassie's arm. "Come on, let's get back to the party."
"But Godfrey!" Cassie yelled as he hauled her inside after him; Roarke watched, and Leslie paused beside him, both grinning.
"You should have seen Cassie, Mr. Roarke," Leslie remarked. "She did great. I wish I could think as fast as she does."
"Ah, Leslie, but you do…and you have," Roarke said, confusing her. His grin widened. "Suppose we go inside and see what happens."
They were just in time to hear Michelle saying, "Excuse me, everyone…I invited you today because I want the people who are special to me to be the first to hear the news." Her face wore a look of strained happiness, which they could see already wearing down. "Charles, will you join me?"
A dumpy little dark-haired man with a smug smirk on his face came over and took her arm, and Michelle addressed the crowd again. "I gathered you here to announce that Charles and I—"
Cassie and Jimmy walked onto the patio then, Jimmy breaking in, "Excuse me…telegram for you, Miss Buchanan." He handed Michelle the envelope Roarke had given him as Roarke, Tattoo and Leslie paused on the patio to look on.
"Not here, Godfrey," Michelle muttered.
"Now," Jimmy said firmly, offering the envelope again.
Staring at him, she finally took it and pulled the telegram from the envelope. Then her face lit up and she exclaimed, "Listen, everybody…Charles and I aren't getting married." For the first time, the smirk evaporated off Charles Winslow's face. "The engagement's off. Celebrate, everybody." She removed her engagement ring and pressed it into the bewildered Charles' palm. "This is the happiest day of my life!" She noticed Charles as if for the first time and said solicitously, "Eat something, you'll feel better."
Cassie and Taylor closed in on her, and Taylor demanded, "Have you flipped?"
"Someone's taken over Father's company," Michelle exclaimed happily. "It's back on its feet. We can stay together!" She hugged her sisters, confounded expressions and all, nearly crying in her joy.
Roarke bent towards Jimmy, who stood with him and Leslie. "I take it you and your business manager had something to do with that telegram, hm?"
Jimmy smiled faintly and quipped, "How else was I gonna get a raise?"
After a moment Michelle wandered over to them and looked at Jimmy. "Godfrey…I have to speak to you for a minute." She glanced at Roarke and added, "Alone."
Roarke nodded and watched Michelle and Jimmy walk away to a more secluded area of the patio; Tattoo and Leslie peered at each other. "I hope she's not upset with him," Leslie fretted slightly. "I mean…"
Tattoo grinned. "I know what you mean. She did look very serious. But how could she be mad at him? She's so happy now that she can keep her sisters together."
Roarke nodded. "That was the real reason she nearly married Charles Winslow. The money he would have put into her father's corporation would have allowed her to keep Taylor and Cassie with her until Cassie reached the age of eighteen. Now, with the saving of the company, their future is assured."
They moved back towards the end of the patio in time to hear Jimmy ask, "What if I'm having the same…special feeling for you?"
"Are you?" Michelle asked, staring at him, eyes wide with hope.
"It's the animal in me," kidded Jimmy, and she grinned; then, slowly, their lips met. Roarke, Leslie and Tattoo exchanged surprised looks at the ardency of their kiss, then quietly retreated; Leslie wondered what Taylor in particular would think of this!
"Well, good," she murmured, another thought suddenly entering her head. "Looks like I can go to Myeko's Halloween party tonight after all."
Tattoo shot her a look. "Did you invite Taylor?"
"I tried to get Myeko to give her an invitation, but she wouldn't. Taylor said the other day she's not into that kind of party anyway, so I guess it's mutual. Hey, I tried." She eyed him. "Now will you stop trying to make me feel guilty?"
Roarke chuckled. "Let her be, Tattoo. She's had an interesting weekend, and I think she deserves the treat." Leslie smiled gratefully at him, and he squeezed her shoulder.
§ § § -- November 1, 1982
The Buchanan sisters and Jimmy Jordan climbed out of the limo on Monday morning looking much happier than they had all weekend; Michelle and Jimmy exchanged long looks before they all faced their hosts. "Thank you for hosting us these last few months, Mr. Roarke," Michelle said, "but Taylor wants to get back to school in New York, so we're going there to get her settled in and hire a butler and some staff to keep an eye on her." She smiled. "She'll be eighteen in less than a week anyway, and Cassie wants to stay in school here, so I thought once Taylor's settled, Cassie and I will come back here."
"I see," said Roarke quizzically.
"Taylor's got friends in her school there," Cassie explained, "but I got to like it here so much, I thought it'd be fun to stay and graduate from the high school here. I have new friends here and they're actually a lot of fun. Plus, most of 'em are Jimmy Jordan fans." They all laughed, and Michelle and Cassie shook hands with their hosts and started off toward the ramp to the charter's hatch.
"Hey, Leslie, uh…" Taylor looked uncharacteristically sheepish and uncertain. "I just wanted to say…well, thanks for being my friend. I'll never forget it."
Leslie smiled. "It's been fun. Good luck, Taylor." Taylor smiled, glanced at Roarke and Tattoo with nods, and followed her sisters.
"So are you planning to stay with the family, or go back to your career?" Tattoo asked.
Jimmy studied them thoughtfully. "Well, if those two hoods are still looking for me…being a butler worked once, figured it'd work again. Besides, I…" He glanced toward the retreating figures on the ramp. "I've gotten pretty attached to them. I've never been happier. Thank you. Thank you, Tattoo." He grinned, shook hands with all three and (after a swift glance around) signed Leslie's autograph book, then faced the plane. "Duty calls." They watched him go, grinning.
Andrea Barclay's car arrived a few seconds later, and Roarke handed her out, remarking, "Well, Miss Barclay, it seems you were a great success." He had filled Leslie and Tattoo in the previous evening on the story of how Andrea had successfully impersonated Lillie Langtry and, in Judge Roy Bean's own words, saved his reputation.
"Thank you, Mr. Roarke." Andrea chuckled. "After playing Langtry, Texas, my stage fright is gone for good."
"So history will record that Lillie Langtry once sang there," Roarke observed. "But I expect we'll soon be hearing more about one Andrea Barclay." As she dipped her head in acknowledgement, Roarke reached into his jacket. "Oh, incidentally…a friend of yours asked me to give you this." He handed Andrea a satin half-mask trimmed in black lace and mounted on a small stick, of the sort often seen at formal masquerade parties.
Andrea took it and chuckled softly. "Thank him for me, please. Goodbye, Mr. Roarke. Goodbye, Tattoo, and Leslie." They both bade her farewell and returned her last wave.
"So do you think she'll make it, Mr. Roarke?" Leslie asked.
"Why shouldn't she? With the boost of confidence she received this weekend, I daresay she will go very far in show business. And I'm sure Judge Roy Bean himself would vouch for her if he could." He grinned at them, and they gazed on as the plane sputtered into life and taxied away across the lagoon.
§ § § -- July 4, 2006
"So did she?" Christian inquired.
Julie nodded enthusiastically. "She may not be world-famous, on the order of somebody like, say, Billy Joel or Elton John, but she did make it on Broadway. She released three albums and she's sung on dozens of stage-show soundtracks. I've got most of her work, and I think she's great. My only regret is that I didn't get to see her that weekend to get her autograph, and I spent years picking on Leslie because she had the chance and didn't." They all laughed and resettled themselves in their seats, most taking sips from their beverage of choice. Rory had by now cadged a huge milkshake out of Mariki and was sitting cross-legged on the floor, leaning against his father's chair leg, contentedly slurping it up.
"It's amazing how many people seem to get their start here," Rogan remarked.
"Yeah," Leslie agreed. "Although Jimmy Jordan's career never did get back on track again. He wasn't able to testify till three years later, when there'd been some more mob hits and the two guys who'd been looking for him were both gunned down. The killer went to prison, and Jimmy had a couple of minor comeback hair-metal hits, but he'd lost so much momentum that he finally decided to just retire. His back catalog was selling like mad because of all the hoopla surrounding his apparent return from the dead, so he figured he'd quit while he was ahead and just enjoy life. He married Michelle, by the way. So he sure didn't have to worry about 'getting a start' here."
"Then there are those who don't," Roarke said with a chuckle. "There was the weekend we had a minor stage actress who hoped to graduate to being a stage mother and see her daughter follow in her footsteps. And not only that, we had a lottery winner with a most unexpected identity."
Rory sat up excitedly, nearly spilling his milkshake. "Who, Uncle Roarke? Who?"
"A little patience, young man, and Leslie and I shall tell you," Roarke said with a grin, and once again settled comfortably back in his chair.