Chapter Twenty-Five: Stern Accusers

"But I didn't!" Catherine backed away from Anne, bumping up against the big leather sofa in the middle of the parlor. The whole flat seemed to be shrinking, the walls closing in around her.

"Liar!" Anne was a powerful woman, the head of Cleves Cosmetics. Until today Catherine had only ever seen her sunny side, smiling and offering treats and heaping compliments on the pretty young fashion model. But Anne hadn't started at the top. She had clawed and scratched and fought for her success, and when she was angry her entire personality seemed to change.

"Anne, I swear to you, I was with the delivery boy the entire time. I didn't see him take anything!" Catherine was so afraid she was actually shaking. When she bumped the sofa her knees buckled. She collapsed on the cushions and gave way to a flood of tears.

"Everything was to migrate from the old computer to the new one. When I got home this afternoon, the new computer was in place. But the drive was empty and everything was gone!" Anne grabbed the terrified girl and began shaking her back and forth. "It was you, Catherine. You let that sexy delivery boy hack into my files and rob me. I told you to keep an eye on him!"

"I signed . . . I signed for the new computer," Catherine sobbed. "I saw him install it. But I never saw him take anything, I swear!"

"Pah!" With her strong, intelligent features full of bitter scorn, Anne gave the foolish young girl a shove that sent her sprawling. "I should have known not to leave you alone for the day. Not with a good looking young man hanging about!" The furious older woman began pacing the thick soft carpet, muttering to herself. "Nothing left on the computer, everything picked clean! And of course she remembers nothing. Still asleep when I came home. Still in her robe! But she made him coffee. Served him cake. Dirty dishes still in the sink. Two cups, one showing traces of lipstick."

"It's not true!" Catherine couldn't stop sobbing. She remembered drinking coffee with Francis, laughing at all the latest London gossip and innocently showing off her long legs. That part was very clear in her mind. She remembered laughing and drinking coffee and then she remembered . . . nothing.

Just then there was a knock on the door, gentle but firm. Someone who was really quite insistent.

"Bloody hell! That's probably him again, back for another round of fun and games." Anne ignored the weak little fool still sobbing on the sofa. Opening the door with a severe look on her face, she was stunned to see not a smirking delivery boy but a respectable looking clergyman in his fifties with a battered old hat, a travel-stained raincoat and kind blue eyes.

"Why, it's Reverend Meeps!" After shedding all those tears, Catherine's face was an absolute mess, but her smile would have landed her on a magazine cover if she were still modeling.

"Good evening, ladies." Reverend Meeps sensed the tension in the air, and gave the two women a soothing smile. He closed his big black umbrella. "It's raining cats and dogs outside. Beastly autumn weather. Still, I thought perhaps young Catherine might be interested in a spot of dinner someplace close by. I have news about poor Hannah, the elderly patient we met at the hospital the other day. You remember, her missing daughter Dolores was last seen with . . ."

"Yes, yes, I'm starving!" Catherine jumped off the sofa at once, throwing her arms around the clergyman's neck and kissing him soundly on both cheeks. "I remember our hospital visit and talking to poor Hannah and . . . and I want to hear all about it!"

Not all of her excitement was genuine, of course. Much of it was just for show. In truth, Catherine was really not all that keen on revisiting the sad, smelly old people at the hospital, or hearing more of Hannah's crazy stories about her long-lost daughter.

But Reverend Meeps was offering her an escape from Anne. Suddenly the stuffy flat felt like a prison. And at the moment all Catherine could seem to think of was making a quick getaway.

"Yes, you two go and eat," Anne said, in a lazy sort of voice. But her fiery black eyes showed how angry she really was. "Meanwhile, I have some phone calls to make. I'm going to get to the bottom of what happened this afternoon no matter what!"

"Why, what's the matter?" Reverend Meeps asked, in a mild voice. He looked from one woman to another, drinking in Anne's determined fury and the fearful look on the tear-streaked face of Catherine.

"Nothing, really! Just a slight misunderstanding. Please, let's go to dinner. I'm so hungry!" Catherine tugged on the reverend's sleeve, flashing a brilliant smile. But his face was sad, as though he saw through everything and felt let down by her.

"My dear, you can't run away from your problems. You have to face them. And you can't go out to dinner dressed like that!"

"Huh?" Catherine was confused. She had been sobbing so hard on the sofa, and then so happy to see Reverend Meeps, that she had entirely forgotten she was still in her robe and slippers. And meanwhile, the two mature adults were staring at her like stern accusers from the older generation!

Suddenly Catherine got it. They thought she'd been lying around the flat all day. They pictured her shagging the delivery boy all afternoon, forgetting all about Anne's instructions and enjoying herself till she finally got thoroughly tired out and fell asleep.

It wasn't true!