Chapter Twenty-Six

There Are More Things…

I walked up behind Kat and looked over her left shoulder into the living room. I heard Mum's startled query about the younger woman's odd statement. I could see my mother standing beneath the large, unusual painting of a rather stern-looking sea captain that had been hung above the mantlepiece. I'd been too busy to notice it before.

Mum turned to look up at it in confusion. "I don't understand…" she said slowly. "Why did you say he belonged here?"

Michael Knight was leaning one elbow on the mantlepiece beside her, obviously not getting any of what was now being discussed nor did he look at all interested in dead sea captains. He appeared bored and a little annoyed with the strange change in the conversation that Kat had suddenly introduced by her unexpected arrival.

"Well, I don't get it," he complained, jerking his thumb at the painting. "I mean, I can see it's a painting of some old sea captain. I get that."

He shrugged, shaking his head. "And I also get that if you painted out the black hair for grey and shaved off his beard, then, I guess he'd look a bit like Devon. He has the same colour eyes. Other than that…"

He shrugged again and pulled a face of discontent. "It must be a woman's thing. The uniform will always do it. But the old boy looks a bit sour for my taste. I'd be asking, why's he up here at all? So, I have to guess he came with the house."

He looked deeply relieved when he noticed me standing behind Kat outside the concealment of the gently moving window sheers. "Oh, great, you two are finally back. Are you about ready to get grilling, Edward? Because I'm starving."

"It's all set up and the fire's been laid," I replied with a smile. "Devon sent me to fetch you and ask Mum to bring all the things for the table. We just need Bonnie and RC to arrive."

I dropped my eyes to Kat's back view. "Hi, Kat…" I teased. "You staying for lunch? There's plenty if you're hungry."

She jumped. "I…"

I felt and saw her sudden consternation about my silent arrival behind her. She hadn't heard me approach. I had been enjoying her softly feminine nearness, clad in her well-worn jeans and a white knit shirt. I'd inhaled the clean, floral scent of her hair while she'd remained unaware of me. Now I regretted its sudden removal as she stepped aside and half-forward into the room to put some space between us.

"No, thanks…" she replied stiffly. "I… only came to drop off the shrubs that Carolyn ordered. I won't be staying. I… have other work I need to be getting on with."

"But it's Sunday," Mum protested, leaving the fireplace to grasp the younger woman's arm before she could escape. "You can take at least one day off and have something to eat before you go. There's plenty of food and we insist."

"But I'm not dressed for company," Kat tried again, glancing down at her jeans.

"It's a casual party and you look just fine to me," my mother insisted, as she encouraged her inside.

"You've already met Michael," she began to make the introductions, pointing to Michael who was still standing at the fireplace. "Devon works with him. And here is his lovely wife, Stevie…" she continued as the younger woman walked back into the room. "So, come along now, you two. You can help me fetch the food and the plates. Then we'll share a bottle of wine and pour a nice, cold glass of fruit juice for Stevie."

She took Stevie's arm with her free hand. "And Kat can tell us all about her mysterious sea captain and why he belongs up there. I know it'll be a great story. Maybe even one I can use for a novel…" My mother left the room, now fully in charge of the other two women who followed her lead meekly enough.

Michael shrugged at me as he ran one hand up and around the back of his neck beneath the collar of his T-shirt. "We're better off keeping out of that discussion," he complained good-naturedly.

"Once the womenfolk start gossiping, a man needs to get grilling to save his sanity. Come on, let's go and help your father to burn some meat." He chuckled as he indicated for me to go before him back into the garden where the enticing smell of cooking meat had begun to permeate the late morning air.

※※※※※

"So, just what is the Captain's story?" Carolyn asked the moment the three of us were alone in the kitchen. "Now that you have us all intrigued. I suspect it's a good one. Why did you say he belonged in the living room?"

I waved a denying hand. "Before I tell you, I would like to know where exactly you found him," I replied quickly, as we moved about the room, collecting and assembling plates, napkins and cutlery on the kitchen island. "He's been missing for more than thirty years. No one knew what had happened to him."

Carolyn frowned at me. "Well, from the very first moment we arrived in this house, something told me to not let anyone but me clear out that dusty old attic. I wanted to do it."

Her expression turned confused. "That was where I found him, hidden away behind the piles of junk and other things," she continued as she brought out bowls of salads from the fridge. "I must say he was very well concealed. Like no one was ever supposed to find him at all."

She paused in her work and pursed her lips. "I don't know what it was about him. But something made me look right there. He seemed to have been waiting for me. And then, above the mantle, seemed to be his natural place."

She looked up. "I know, it makes no sense at all. Devon thought I was being a little crazy and obsessive over it. But it was just an odd feeling. This house seems to be full of them."

"I see…" I nodded my understanding of an old mystery. "Ah, so that's where the awful Harriet hid him. We thought she'd decided to sell him to get even. I'm glad to see she never went that far. That would have been too cruel, even for a woman like her."

"All right, you have my attention now, too. Who's this Harriet?" Stevie asked as she pushed a tray of pre-sliced burger buns into the oven to warm. "She doesn't sound very nice at all."

"No, from what I was told she wasn't a nice woman." I shook my head. "She was Mrs Greig's unmarried first cousin. She had a twin sister named Hilda, and they never approved of their cousin marrying the Captain. They said he was too far beneath her, to be a suitable suitor."

Stevie whistled low with disbelief as she poured salad cream into a serving jug. "Geez, with relatives like her, who needs enemies. She sounds like a right hag."

I couldn't help smiling at the apt word. "Yes, well, Mrs Greig said they were all rather stuck up and thought themselves better than they were."

I sighed. "The DeLaceys had a minor connection to a very old and wealthy Philadelphia family, and they never let anyone forget it. While the Captain was said to be a nobody from somewhere over in Maine no one had ever heard of. The family had another, much more suitable man, lined up to marry their cousin, but she eloped with the captain, instead."

"Good for her!" Stevie approved, punching the air above her head. "It all sounds so dreadfully Victorian. Thank God, we don't do things like that now."

I shrugged. "It was near enough to Victorian. They got married as soon as the war ended in nineteen-eighteen. Mrs Greig had just turned twenty." I smiled as I folded napkins and warmed to my theme, not realising both women had stopped their work to watch me with deepening curiosity for my tale.

But it felt good to finally be able to reveal such ancient secrets. There was no one left alive now to care about when or how I told the story. "They ran away to sea as soon as they could and didn't return for two years. Of course, the DeLaceys entirely disowned her. So, Captain Greig brought her here, to this house that his crew had built for him. A place where they could be far enough away from her family and their interfering ways."

I looked up and saw them both staring at me. "And… that's really all I know about it," I ended my tale abruptly.

"Oh, I think there's a great deal more to it," Carolyn said with firm decision as she returned to her tasks. "I'm a writer and I know a really good story when I hear one. This was a true love affair."

Her level look challenged me to confess that I knew more than I was telling. "You'll tell me the rest when you're good and ready. Right now, we have some men to feed. And I can hear that Bonnie and RC have finally arrived."

"All right." I too had heard the throaty growl of the black Trans Am coming up the driveway. It was a good enough excuse to make my escape from more questions.

"But where does that awful Harriet woman come back into the story again?" Stevie asked with a frown. "I mean, you said she was the one who must have moved the painting up into the attic. How come your Mrs Grieg didn't know?"

"Harriet was very sneaky," I replied quickly, as I fetched a large wooden tray and started to put everything onto it to carry outside to the picnic table. "Mrs Greig said she never went up there again after the Captain disappeared, because it had been her husband's private sanctuary. He kept all his nautical things stored there and she couldn't bear to look at any of them again. She missed him too much. There's said to be his sea journals and all sorts."

I hesitated and then decided to confess just a little more. What could it hurt now, after all these years?

"When the Captain disappeared at sea, thirty years after they were married, that nasty woman, Harriet DeLacey, couldn't wait to drive all the way out here and try to take over everything. She said she was only doing her family duty. Her cousin needed her."

I shook my head. "Mrs Greig had to put up a very big fight to finally get rid of her. It was only after the woman had finally gone that she noticed the Captain's portrait was also missing because she didn't like to go into the sitting room either."

"I just knew there was a whole lot more to the story," Carolyn replied with a warm smile as we gathered up everything. "And you will tell me because I want to know it all. But let's wait until everyone's had something to eat. Then I want to write everything down as you tell it."

I moved one shoulder. "Very well. I guess Mrs Greig wouldn't mind. It's past time someone else knew the whole story about this house…" I replied slowly, as Stevie and I followed her lead out of the kitchen and into the back garden where the delicious smells of grilling meat made my empty stomach grumble.

It seemed that I was being drawn ever closer to this family when all I wanted to do was keep my distance and do my work. It was almost as if forces beyond my control were pushing me ever closer to them. I cast a glance in the direction of the living room and shook my head. Carolyn was right, there were things in this house that could not always be explained away rationally…

※※※※※

I enjoyed working the grill and absorbing the warm summer afternoon as I watched my guests mingle and talk. The food was hot and plentiful, and the party was just getting started. I felt a deep sense of contentment as I looked around at the house and garden.

I could happily admit that the last six days, spent in the exclusive company of our son, had been among the happiest of my new life. We'd worked on his continuance and had finally found the breakthrough we needed to win the case.

Carolyn had taken the time to work on the final draft of her latest manuscript and kept us supplied with food and whiskey through the long hours. She knew how important the work was to both of us and left us in the peace of my study.

Now, that slippery, devious man, who'd seemed to have more lives than a blasted alley cat, would finally be going to jail for his heinous crimes. We'd faxed all the new evidence through to Edward's office and, for once, our workaholic son had decided to take some real time off.

Two nights ago, he'd asked if we minded if he extended his stay with us, which was more than fine with his mother and me. The next morning, we'd gone out to purchase a state-of-the-art grill to celebrate.

Spending time putting it together had drawn us even closer. The years between were beginning to melt away. I was starting to feel as if I'd always known my son. We were that alike.

I knew Edward was now sleeping well at night. His conscience was at peace. I knew mine was. It was the sleep of someone who had finally gotten everything right in his life and it felt good.

As I turned meat on the grill and served our guests – to which I could see Kat had unexpectedly been added – I felt an unalloyed pride in being a part of something meaningful and worthwhile. As FLAG had once been in the early days before Wilton had been taken gravely ill and it had all begun to fall apart.

Back then, we were both so sure we had the solution to all the woes of the world. We would work hard to save them, one case at a time. I huffed a small derisive laugh now. How wrong and naive we had been. The world didn't want to be saved. It didn't want or need our moral outrage or thirst for restitution. It had been a painful lesson I'd learned very well.

As I attended to my self-appointed task of grill master now, my son walked up and placed his hand companionably on my shoulder. "Are you okay, Devon? You looked like you were miles away just then. You want me to take over while you go and eat?"

"I'm good for now," I replied.

"Okay…" He lifted one of the two dewy, open bottles of beer he held in his hands. "I've brought you something cold to drink. You looked parched."

"Thanks." I accepted it and took a long, grateful swallow of the ice-cold liquid. I rolled the side of the bottle across my forehead to cool it and sighed with relief.

"And I've never been better in my life," I admitted honestly, putting the beer down before laying my hand briefly over his. "It's going to be good to have you here for longer than you thought…"

I paused for the minutest of nanoseconds. "…, son. It is good. Very good."

I looked up and kept my eyes locked with his. I had finally, verbally named him as mine. I had thought it often enough but had never expressed it until now. It felt good. More than good. It felt so right.

Edward Bridges might not have my name on his birth certificate, but he shared my blood and my DNA and that was all that truly mattered. We stood in the quiet shadows cast by the huge oak behind us and enjoyed the moment of close kinship.

"Ireland is pretty special at this time of year, isn't it?" he then asked softly, still watching me closely. "I've always felt drawn there. Now I know why."

"This is the best time of year," I agreed with a nod. "Everything will be in bloom. It can be a magical place."

"Then we should go there sometime, just you, me and Mum," he added quietly. "I've never been to Cork."

"Nor have I, in close to forty years gone," I confessed quickly. "I don't know if I would recognise the place now. I don't even know if the old house is still there."

"Then we'll find out." My son shrugged. "We could go exploring it together."

"I'd really like that…" My breathing hitched and I felt my throat close tight with raw emotion. I took refuge in finishing the bottle of beer in a few long swallows.

By staying longer, Edward was easing himself slowly into our new life. I knew he was still wary. He didn't wish to intrude and would have backed off and gone back home if I showed any signs of discomfort.

My son had very good instincts. He listened and saw things others missed. I was looking forward to getting to know him even better over the next month before he finally flew back to Boston. I knew I would miss his easy company.

Of course, the timing was key. I had a new photographic exhibition coming up soon in New York. And Carolyn needed to get finished with her latest manuscript. Everything had dovetailed together nicely. As if it was all meant to be...

"What have you two been talking about over here for so long?" Carolyn came up to ask, as she held out her empty plate toward me. "I think one of those steaks has my name written all over it."

"Just catching up," I replied evasively.

I felt relief as I forked the required piece of meat onto her plate. She went up onto tiptoe and kissed my cheek. "Now, come on, sit down and eat something. You've been standing out here all morning in this hot sun. I'm sure Edward can be trusted to take over the grilling."

"I was just about to say that," our son replied smoothly, taking the turning fork from my hand.

He hitched his chin in the direction of the crowded picnic table where there was laughter and a great deal of talking. "Go and get something to eat and I'll bring you your steak. Then I'll go inside and fetch out some more beers."

"I guess I'm outnumbered," I complained wryly as my wife walked away back to the table and I was about to follow.

"And thanks… Dad," our son said, behind me. "For letting me come and stay. For helping me find a way to solve that latest case. For being so good to Mum. For… well, everything…"

My heart swelled near to bursting with pride as I turned back to look at him, knowing what he was trying to say without saying it. He was finally letting me in, easing down the iron-clad guard he kept on his inner feelings. I could see my tangle of conflicting emotions reflected in his eyes. In that single moment, we understood each other and it felt good.

"Anytime, son…" I nodded and smiled, feeling as if I'd just been handed the keys to the whole world. "Anytime…"

I made good my escape before my own emotions finally overcame me. As I crossed the back lawn, I noticed that, at the very edge of the driveway, Kitt had eased as close as he dared and was playing a selection of soft music through his speakers. I knew he was understandably wary of Kat's late addition to the informal party so he couldn't contribute to the talk around the table as he usually would.

"Sorry, Kitt…" I smiled in sympathy as I sensed his deep frustration at being forced to remain mute. His moving red eye appeared to frown at me.

As I served the food onto my plate at the table, I could hear that the general conversation I'd left when I went to attend to the grill, had suddenly become a lot more animated and taken a rather unusual direction from our usual business discussions we indulged in whenever we got together.

※※※※※

"Hi…" I smiled up at Devon as he forked some salad and a burger bun onto his plate before he drew out the empty chair next to mine and sat down.

Edward walked up and leaned in to place a steak on his father's plate. "I'll be off in a minute or two to fetch more beers from the fridge. Anyone need anything else while I'm there?"

"We need more wine." I held up the empty bottle for him to take. "And another fruit juice for Stevie."

"Thanks…" Stevie sat holding her daughter against her shoulder as she gently rubbed the infant's back. "So this dreadful Cousin Harriet came barging back in where she wasn't wanted before the Captain had even been declared dead. And then she tried to take over?" She shook her head in disbelieving wonder.

I looked up expectantly at Kat, waiting for her answer. I'd hurried up to our bedroom and brought down my large notebook and a pen. I hastily consumed my last slice of steak before I went back to taking notes. This story was developing very nicely and I wanted to catch every word.

If I was going to be allowed to publish it as a novel – which I prayed I would - I knew it would become a best seller. I could see the title now. 'The Captain and Mrs Greig…' I smiled at the obvious connection between the house and its use in the pilot of that old 1960s TV show about a ghost and a young widow. Things were falling very neatly into place.

"Go on," I encouraged Kat. "Tell us the rest of the story. And please go slowly, I want to make sure I have everything written down correctly…"

※※※※※

"Hang on a minute…" Bonnie held up one hand. "Who's this Cousin Harriet? Where does she fit in? I thought we were talking about a painting."

"We are, or we were." Michael shrugged, still unable to see what all the feminine excitement was about. "But this Harriet sounds like someone we don't want to know. Unless we were being paid to dig up some dirt on her." He grinned. "Then I'd be interested."

"Yeah, she sure sounds like a right battleaxe," RC added for good measure. "I once had an aunt like her. Her hands should have been registered as lethal weapons!" He laughed at his own joke.

"All right, okay, I get that. But who was this Harriet to the storyline?" Bonnie asked again. "Remember we came into this late. We're only just catching up. But it all sounds really great. You going to write about it, Carolyn?"

"I'm hoping to…" I murmured absently as I re-read my notes and wondered if I'd missed anything.

Devon nudged me in the ribs with his elbow. "See what a maelstrom you've created with wanting to know all about that painting?" he teased. "Pass me the mustard, please."

"Sorry…" I blinked at him and his wry smile widened.

"I asked you for the mustard," he repeated slowly. "You know, it's that yellow bottle with the red lid…" He pointed to the condiment with the blade of his steak knife.

"Here you are…" I snatched it up and handed it to him. "I was thinking."

"Don't sweat it," he advised softly, leaning close to kiss my averted cheek. "You got this. It will all be all right…"

"I know…" I frowned at him, wondering what he was trying to tell me. Then the conversation swirling around us snagged my attention again.

"Oh, it seems like our delightful Cousin Harriet was the original wicked old witch right out of the west," Stevie chortled in reply to Bonnie's question. "Think of all the mean girls you ever knew when you were a kid. From what Kat said, she was worse."

She leaned closer. "And she had a twin sister called Hilda."

"Help, that bad…" Bonnie whistled with wide-eyed awe. "Wow…"

"So there's no money in for us, then?" Michael asked in a mock aggrieved tone. "Nothing for us to investigate. I get it." He shrugged as he drained the last of his beer and looked around for another.

"I never knew Harriet at all, you understand," Kat added, seemingly keen for total accuracy. "This all happened before I was even born. Mrs Grieg told me everything years later. Nobody else knew the full story. She lived here all alone for years until we met. I guess she finally decided she had to tell someone."

"All right…" I sighed as I pushed aside my plate. "Take your time…" I advised her. "And just tell the story to us as it was told to you. Then we can begin to research the truth."

※※※※※

"Okay…" I inhaled and nodded. I had consumed more than one glass of wine, and I was feeling a little lightheaded.

The food was excellent, and the company was very easy to talk to. For the first time in a long while, I was loathe to leave the gathering. There was only one very good reason to go.

And before I could reply, that single reason walked across my line of sight. I was momentarily distracted by the delicious sight of Edward Bridges walking away across the lawn, heading for the open door of the kitchen. The flex and release of his thigh and butt muscles within the taut black denim of his jeans snagged and held my unwilling attention.

I felt my mouth go dry with desire and I closed my eyes so I couldn't look. But, of course, he was right there, behind my lids. A place he seemed to be occupying more and more, no matter what I did to try and dislodge his unwelcome intrusion into the peace and quiet of my well-ordered life.

'One more week,' had become my mantra. 'Just let me get through one more week…'

"Kat?" Carolyn questioned and I snapped my eyes open again. "Are you okay? Do you want to stop?"

"Sorry, no, I'm good…" I apologised lamely, trying to control the warmth in my cheeks. "I was just trying to remember everything…" I cleared my throat and slowly continued the story I had somewhat unwisely begun earlier.

There could be no going back now. They were all leaning forward, hanging on my every word. Even the sleek black Trans-Am parked on the edge of the lawn seemed to edge closer. Which, of course, I knew was impossible. But the soft music it had been playing through its speakers was abruptly cut off and a hushed silence flowed in.

Everything and everyone seemed to be waiting for me to go on speaking…

※※※※※

Just as I was leaving the kitchen, the wall telephone rang. I put down the beers and wine and turned back to answer it.

"Miles residence… Edward Bridges speaking. Oh, hi, Maria. It's been a long time. How are you?" I listened to my old nanny talking for several minutes and felt a growing sense of anger, deep in my gut. "Yes, okay, I see. Yes, she's here… Just a moment, I'll go and get her…"

I placed the receiver down on the bench and walked back out into the sunshine. I crossed the lawn to my mother's chair and leaned down next to her ear. "It's a call for you from Maria. She's on the telephone in the kitchen."

Mum closed her notebook and stood up immediately. "Oh, I do hope everything's all right…"

She hurried inside to the kitchen, followed by me and Devon. I put a detaining hand on his arm and shook my head. "I'm afraid Maria has some very bad news to report."

"What sort of news?" Devon demanded to know as we stood watching Mum pick up the telephone.

"It's about Ian Bridges. It seems he can't leave well enough alone and has been coming around the Santa Fe house, looking for Mum. He's also been caught going through the mail. Seems he was trying to find your LA address and has made quite a nuisance of himself over these last couple of weeks. He's now accosting Maria whenever she goes out and upsetting her with questions she can't and won't answer."

"Blast…" Devon replied, low and with feeling as we waited for Mum to finish the call. "That man is the pits. He doesn't have the sense to leave things well alone. This time he's gone much too far."

※※※※※