“Sorry,” Mattie mumbled.
“The thing is,” Charlotte said gently, “you're part of his hopes and dreams now. He won't leave you behind.”
“He did once before.”
“Are you going to hold that against him for the rest of his life?”
Mattie thought about it. “Maybe. At least until I can be sure I'm not a stand-in for Ariel.”
“I don't believe it. That's not like you, Mattie. Hugh made a mistake a year ago, but that's because he was mad as hell and didn't know his own mind. For heaven's sake, dear, he's man. Men aren't very good at analyzing themselves, you know.”
“I know. But I'm tired of analyzing him, too. I thought I had him figured out a year ago. I thought I understood him and that once he was free from Ariel's spell he'd see the light. But he didn't, Aunt Charlotte.”
“It only took him a couple of months to come to his senses. Be reasonable, Mattie.” Charlotte sighed. “He was really thrown for a loss when Ariel broke off the engagement. He needed time to get his act together again. Poor Hugh, he thought he'd wrapped everything up in a nice, neat package for himself. All his plans were in order, and he's very accustomed to making things work out according to his own plans, you know. Even if he has to sort of hammer them into place.”
“You can say that again.”
“I blame myself, in part. I should never have arranged for Hugh and Ariel to meet.”
“Why did you?” Mattie asked tightly. “You've made no secret that you'd like him in the family, but why choose Ariel for him the first time around? Why didn't you toss me into his lap?”
“Oh, dear. I had a feeling you might be harboring some resentment on that score.”
“Forget it, Aunt Charlotte. I'm used to Ariel getting picked first. I've always been her understudy.”
“Really, dear, must you sink back into that old selfpity routine? I thought you'd outgrown that years ago.”
Mattie winced as the masseuse crushed her shoulders. “Sorry. Old habits are hard to break.”
“Well, it's not as if you don't have cause in this instance, I suppose. In this case I did consciously choose Ariel for Hugh. And I admit it was a big mistake. All I can say is that at first glance they somehow seemed very suited to each other. They're both very vibrant, colorful, dramatic people. I thought they would strike sparks off each other.”
“They did. More than sparks. Explosions.”
“But they didn't set any long-term fires, Mattie. You and Hugh did.”
“It's another mismatch, Aunt Charlotte. Trust me.”
“Well, one way or another, you'd better be prepared for real fireworks if you insist on tying Hugh to Seattle. Because he can't stay here indefinitely, and he won't leave without you.”
“Is that right?” Mattie retorted, feeling pressured again. “What about me? Why should I pull up stakes and move to his godforsaken little island? What about my career? What about my sushi and white wine? I'm happy here, Aunt Charlotte. Finally. After all these years I'm actually happy.”
“Are you, dear?” Charlotte asked softly.
“I think I'm getting tense again,” Mattie declared.
“Just relax, dear.”
“Aunt Charlotte?”
“Yes, dear?”
“What do you know about Hugh's past?”
“His past? Well, he's worked for Vailcourt on a free-lance consulting basis for nearly four years.”
“I mean, before he went to work for you.”
“I'm afraid I can't tell you much.”
“Because it's confidential? Personnel policies don't permit telling me?”
Charlotte smiled. “It's not so much a matter of personnel policy as it is the plain and simple fact that I don't know exactly what Hugh was doing before he came to work for me.”
Mattie frowned. “I find it hard to believe you'd hire someone you knew absolutely nothing about, Aunt Charlotte.”
“Something about his style rather appealed to me,” Charlotte said thoughtfully. “He just walked into my office one day without an appointment and told me I needed him. Said one of the South American field offices of Vailcourt Mining was in jeopardy because a group of rebels was about to destroy it in order to make a political statement. Hugh told me that for ten thousand dollars he would deal with the situation.”
“And he did.”
“Oh, yes, dear. He certainly did. The rest, as they say, is history.”
Hugh sprawled in his executive chair, heels stacked on the desk, and eyed the magnificent view of Elliott Bay through the office windows. When he got back to St. Gabriel, he'd have to see about ordering up a chair like the one he was presently occupying. But he already knew he had a better view back in the islands. There was something about having to look at the expanse of the bay through solid glass windows that could not be opened that bothered him.
But, then, there were a lot of things about city life that irritated him. The sooner he got Mattie out of here, the better.
“Where the hell have you been, Silk?” Hugh said when Taggert eventually rumbled inquiringly into the phone. He could hear the sounds of the Hellfire evening crowd in the background. “I've been trying to reach you for two days.”
“I was off island,” Silk said, sounding stone-cold sober. “Took a little trip to Hades to see if I could pick up any leads.”
“Any luck?”
“Word is that things have settled down on Purgatory. The revolution or whatever you want to call it is over, and it's business as usual over there, apparently.”
“Who's in charge?”
“Good question, boss. A lot of the old crowd, believe it or not, including Findley, the pool-shooting president. The official word is that the coup failed and things are back to normal. But the rumor is there's a new man in charge behind the scenes and that the important government officials now answer to him.”
“In other words, the coup worked but the new strongman has enough sense to stay out of the spotlight.”
“Sounds like it. And whoever it is, he's also smart enough to use money, not guns, to buy the loyalty of the local officials.”
“Money always did talk over on Purgatory,” Hugh observed. “That's one of the things Cormier liked about it.”
“As Cormier pointed out, money talks everywhere. It's just a bit more obvious on a small island like Purgatory. Don't forget, in the old days, that island was a pirate stronghold. It hasn't changed all that much.”
“Yeah. Interesting.” Hugh was silent for a moment, running possibilities through his head. “You ever find Gibbs? The guy who was Rosey's partner?”
“Nope. No trace. Looks like he's skipped.”
“Probably for good reason. Must have found out what happened to his friend. Sounds like the next step is to try to track down some of Cormier's former house staff. See if we can get one of them to talk. Find out if they saw anything the day Cormier was killed.”
“My guess is that they're all going to be suffering from amnesia. Assuming we can even find one or two of'em.”
“If we can find one, we can make him talk. Keep working on it, Silk. I'm going to try something from this end.”
“Like what?”
“Ever heard of computers? Information networks? Worldwide data bases?”
“Where the hell are you going to get hold of a computer with enough information to help us find out something about Cormier's killer?”
“I'm sitting on top of one of the most sophisticated computer networks in the world, Silk. Call me when you get a handle on something.”
“Right.”
“By the way,” Hugh said, “Mattie's scheduled your opening for tomorrow evening. There's going to be champagne and all kinds of free eats. They do that kind of thing up big around here.”
“Damn. Wish I could be there. Sounds like my kind of party.” There was a pause on the other end of the line. “She really think my stuff is going to sell?”
Hugh was amazed at the degree of uncertainty in Silk's voice. It wasn't like
the big man to be uncertain of anything. “She says you're going to make her rich.”
“Damn,” Silk said again in tones of great wonder. “When I think of how I had to ram those canvases down Miles's throat in order to cover my tab here at the Hellfire, I could just spit. He'll have to beg for'em now, by God.”
“Revenge is sweet.”
“Ain't it just?”
Hugh hung up the phone and took his boots down off the desk. He got to his feet, went over to the small refrigerator, and removed the bottle of juice Mattie had brought with her that morning.
The two secretaries that had been assigned to Hugh looked up inquiringly as he strode through the outer office on the way to the elevators.
“See ya,” said Hugh.
“What shall we say concerning your estimated time of return to the office, Mr. Abbott?” Gary asked just as Hugh reached the door.
“Tell 'em I'll be back in a while.” Hugh went out into the corridor and punched the elevator call button. Secretaries who tried to set schedules and run a man's life were a nuisance. He knew the two he had were among the best in the business, but they annoyed him as often as not.
Hugh was doing his best to learn how to manage a staff, however, because he figured that sooner or later he would be hiring office help for Abbott Charters. He sure as hell did not want to keep doing all the filing himself, and he could not trust Derek or Ray or Silk to do it. Their idea of file management was to toss everything that wasn't edible or spendable into the nearest wastebasket.
“What in the world have you got in that bottle?” Charlotte Vailcourt asked when Hugh sauntered through her office door a few minutes later.
“Bug juice. Mattie made it.” Hugh set the bottle on Charlotte's vast slate desk. “Want some?”
“Another one of her high-energy, antistress concoctions, I presume?” Charlotte eyed the juice warily.
“Yeah. I haven't tried this particular formula yet, but if it's like the others I've tasted, we'll be lucky to survive.” Hugh went over to the black lacquer wet bar across the room and found a couple of glasses in the cupboard.
“Why do you keep drinking her ‘bug juice,’ as you call it, if you can't stand the stuff? Why not just toss it into the nearest flowerpot?”
Hugh shrugged as he came back across the room and poured two small glasses full of the juice. “It's not that bad. I've had worse things to drink.” He swallowed the entire contents of his glass in one long gulp and grimaced. “But I can't recall just when.”
Charlotte grinned as she sipped tentatively at hers. “I suppose the fact that she goes to so much trouble to elevate your health consciousness is a sign of how much she cares about you.”
“That's what I tell myself when I'm eating pasta and veggies instead of a nice bloody steak.” Hugh sank down into a black leather and chrome chair.
His gaze went briefly to the large glass cabinet that held several of Charlotte's most interesting specimens of old armor. The lighted case displayed a row of swords with unusual hilts, some gilded, some studded with semiprecious stones, and an arrangement of daggers of various sizes.
“Is that rapier new?” Hugh asked idly. “I don't remember seeing it in there last time.”
“Yes. It arrived yesterday. Seventeenth century. Rather nice, don't you think?”
“If you like that kind of thing.” Hugh brought his gaze back to his boss. “Charlotte, I need a favor.”
“I thought you might. You don't normally come up here just to visit. What sort of favor?”
“I want to borrow some of your computer people. I need a little research done.”
“On what?”
“On what might have happened on Purgatory.”
“According to the one short article I saw in the newspaper the other day, the coup was crushed almost immediately.”
“That's the official version, but a friend of mine says there's a rumor that someone else is in charge now. Someone working behind the scenes. I figured if I could do a little fishing in some of your data banks, I might be able to come up with a name.”
“My data banks or someone else's?” Charlotte asked with arched brows. “Never mind. I don't think I want to know the answer to that. Go ahead and talk to Johnson down in Systems. He can use our computers to talk to just about any major data bank in the world. Just don't give me too many details, all right? And tell Johnson I don't want any tracks left that could lead back to Vailcourt.”
Hugh grinned. “Appreciate it.”
“Consider it a wedding present.”
“I'll do that.” Hugh stood up. “You want the rest of that bug juice?”
“No, thank you. I'm afraid you're going to have to finish it all by yourself.”
“I was afraid of that.” Hugh reached for the bottle and headed for the door.
“By the way, Hugh,” Charlotte said behind him.
“Yeah?” He turned, one hand on the doorknob.
“How is Vailcourt's master security plan coming along?”
“Be finished with it in another couple of weeks or so at the outside.”
“And then what?”
“Then, with any luck, I'll be on my way to St. Gabe with Mattie.”
“I'm afraid you've still got some convincing to do in that department.”
“It'll work out.”
Charlotte absently tapped a gold pen on the desk. “I hope so. I honestly think she would be happy with you if she lets herself.”
“Damn right,” Hugh said forcefully. “I'll make her happy, Charlotte. I swear it.”
“None of us can actually make someone else happy, not really. We each have to find our own happiness within ourselves. We have to work at it. It takes courage.”
“She's got guts,” Hugh said. “She'll be all right. She just needs a little time to get used to the idea of being with me on a permanent basis.”
“I hope you're willing to give her the time, Hugh,” Charlotte said with a meaningful look. “I hope you won't try to push her too fast. You do tend to operate rather quickly, you know.”
“Well, I can't hang around here forever. I've got a business to run and a house to build. And I'm not getting any younger.”
“You really think she's just going to toss it all away for you, don't you? Her business, her lifestyle, her friends. Isn't that somewhat arrogant on your part, Hugh?”
He scowled. “I'll take care of her.”
“She doesn't need to be taken care of. She's perfectly capable of taking care of herself. Lord knows, she's had to do it for years. No one in the family knew how to take care of her. She wasn't like the rest of them. Her needs were different. Her talents were different. No one knew quite what to do with her when they found out she wasn't going to fall into the same mold as the rest of them.”
“You seem to understand her.”
Charlotte smiled. “Probably because I left the artistic world many years ago and went into the business world. When I found myself at the reins of Vailcourt, I learned a great deal about an area of life I had previously ignored. The experience has taught me to recognize and respect people such as you and Mattie. You're both entrepreneurs at heart. You both are inclined to take risks.”
“You think Mattie is a risk taker?”
“Certainly, although she doesn't think of herself that way. She takes risks frequently. She took a major one when she started Sharpe Reaction. Ariel and the rest of the family had a fit because she went for the commercial market. They didn't support her at all, and believe me, in the beginning it would have helped a great deal if she had been allowed to hang some of her mother's work or a few of Ariel's paintings.”
“They didn't want her to succeed.”
“No, not because they didn't love her. They simply didn't approve of what she was doing. The Sharpe clan is very elitist when it comes to art.”
“Except for you.”
Charlotte smiled. “As I said, running Vailcourt has broadened my horizons. But my point about Mattie is that she is quite cap
able of taking risks. Heaven knows she does it every time she discovers a previously unknown artist and features his work in her gallery. Her reputation rides on the quality of the artists she hangs, you know. She can't afford to make many mistakes. And like any good businesswoman she makes it a practice to learn from her mistakes.”
Hugh got the point. He felt himself turning a dull red. “She didn't make a mistake with me. It was just a case of bad timing. Sooner or later she'll get that through her head.”
Charlotte considered that. “I suppose it's a good sign that she's starting to get very curious about your past. We talked about it while we had our massage this morning, you know. She had a lot of questions.”
“Shit.” Hugh felt his insides tighten. “My past has nothing to do with my present or my future. I've told Mattie that. She doesn't need to know anything more than she already does.”
“Women, especially women who have learned from experience to be prudent when it comes to men, sometimes take a slightly different view.”
“Shit,” Hugh said again as he went through the door and slammed it behind himself.
“Enjoy your bug juice,” Charlotte called after him.
CHAPTER
Twelve
“What do you think about putting the lagoon series on the right-hand wall and the paintings of the town itself on the left-hand wall?” Mattie stood in the center of her gallery, studying the blank white walls. She'd been puzzling over Silk Taggert's work all afternoon. She had deliberately waited until after closing time to hang the paintings in order to create an air of expectation and curiosity in the local art community. She wanted to surprise everyone. She had all the placements carefully planned out and all she had to do was hang the work in its prepared locations. But time was getting short and she was in a hurry.
It was proving difficult to concentrate on the design of the display, however, because her sister was pacing furiously up and down the room. Ariel's fluttering black skirts and voluminous black silk top made her look like an exotic black butterfly as she flitted from one end of the gallery to the other.
Mattie automatically glanced down at the tailored little navy blue suit, white blouse, gold chain necklace, and black pumps she, herself, was wearing and felt like a moth rather than a butterfly. She wished the suit were red instead of navy blue. Thoughts of the daring little red sarong that she had brought back with her from the islands danced in her head. It was neatly tucked away in the darkest corner of her closet.