“But you said …”
“I know,” said Daniel with a small smile. “That he has ‘special needs.’ I only said that to throw Jackie off the scent. Lauren has a hard enough time without word getting out about Jamie. He’s not a bad kid, actually, most of the time. What he really needs is a swift kick in the ass. Or a dad.”
“Doesn’t his father have any contact with him?”
“No. James died in a car accident a few years back. But he wasn’t much of a father even before that.”
“What about James’s parents?”
“Clive and Anne?” He scoffed. “They’ve never even seen Jamie. I think they convinced themselves that Jamie wasn’t James’s son to begin with.”
“How sad,” I said. “Poor Lauren.”
“Yes,” agreed Daniel. “It hasn’t been easy for her. I made sure that she invested her money wisely, but it was still a struggle for her.”
“And then Gerald came along.”
Daniel nodded. “And then Gerald came along,” he repeated. “I think she did care for him at first. Gerald could be charming when it suited him, and Lauren’s instincts with men aren’t exactly what you’d call razor sharp. By the time she realized what a bastard he really was, it was too late. But she was determined to stick it out for Jamie’s sake. She’d do anything for that boy—she completely dotes on him. With Gerald’s money, she was able to get Jamie into one of those treatment centers for wayward boys. And she’s convinced that he’s making progress.”
“I gather Gerald would never have considered moving so she could be closer to Jamie.”
“Are you kidding?” Daniel scoffed. “He’d never have left here. He was too intent on buying up all the land he could—like your aunt’s inn. He was incandescent with rage at losing that place.”
“So I gather,” I said. “And now he’s dead.”
“And now he’s dead.” Daniel nodded. In a solemn voice he recited from Sir Walter Scott, “ ‘The wretch, concentred all in self, living, shall forfeit fair renown. And doubly dying, shall go down to the vile dust from whence he sprung, unwept, unhonour’d and unsung.’ ” After a brief pause, he added, “More wine?”
By the time we pulled into the inn’s driveway, I was feeling rather floaty. It might have been the wine, or it might have been the way Daniel kept looking at me. I really didn’t care what the reason was—I just didn’t want it to end. Turning off the ignition, Daniel turned in his seat to face me.
“Thank you again for asking me to dinner, Daniel.”
“No, thank you.” He leaned in close to me. Cupping my face in his hand, he stroked my cheek lightly with his thumb. My heart jerked into a pounding rhythm. “You’ve done me quite a service. This is something I could get used to,” he said softly, before kissing me.
I returned his kiss, but part of me blanched at his words. How had I been a service? Peter’s and Aunt Winnie’s intimations reverberated in my head. Was that the reason behind tonight—to fortify his “just friends” story with Lauren? Putting my hand on his chest, I lightly pushed him away.
“Elizabeth? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know. Something you just said. What do you mean, I did you a service tonight?”
“By going to dinner with me,” he said. “I enjoyed your company. I think we go well together. I like the idea of being with you. Why? What did you think I meant?”
I couldn’t ask for a nicer answer, but something deep inside me wasn’t buying it. After all, we didn’t know each other that well. A few flirtatious conversations and one dinner generally didn’t provoke such a serious reaction in men like Daniel—at least not with women like me.
“I don’t know,” I said. He leaned toward me. “Wait.” I put my hand on his chest again. “Daniel,” I said slowly, unsure how to phrase my question, “I don’t know how to ask you this, but are you and Lauren … ?”
He immediately stopped trying to kiss me. “Are Lauren and I what?” he asked, with an edge to his voice.
Blushing, I averted my face from him. “More than friends,” I said, my voice small. I hated having to ask, but I had to know.
Daniel leaned back, his eyes dark with annoyance. “Why would I be here with you if that were the case?”
“I don’t know. It’s just that there’s been a lot of speculation about you and Lauren, especially since Gerald was murdered. Everything is moving so fast. We don’t know each other very well, and I … well, I …”
“I realize that we don’t know each other very well,” he said, “but I thought that was the point of dinner—to get to know each other better.”
My face burned with embarrassment. “I know, but …” I began lamely.
“Is that why you went out to dinner with me tonight? To see what you could find out about me? About Lauren?”
“No! But just now, I wondered.”
“You suddenly wondered if Lauren and I are more than friends.” He frowned. “And if we are, what would be the point of my seeing you? To throw off suspicion about my relationship with Lauren?”
“Something like that.” Hearing it voiced out loud rendered the whole thing silly and melodramatic, but nevertheless I noticed that he hadn’t answered my question.
Daniel reached into his jacket pocket and took out a cigarette. As he lit it, I noticed that his fingers shook slightly. He inhaled deeply before continuing. I watched the smoke curling out into long, wispy tendrils. “I like you, Elizabeth,” he finally said slowly, choosing his words with care, “but this isn’t a good way to start a relationship— with suspicions and insecurities.”
“I’m sorry, Daniel.” I lowered my voice. “I didn’t mean to offend you. Everything has been so crazy the past couple of days. I can’t tell which end is up anymore. The police think that Aunt Winnie might have had something to do with Gerald’s murder, and I can’t let them think that.”
“So what are you doing? Playing girl detective to get her off the hook?”
His words stung. “I’m trying to find out what I can. And if it helps Aunt Winnie, then all the better. There’s a lot going on here that doesn’t make sense. I’m just trying to make sense of it.”
“What doesn’t make sense?” he asked sharply.
I opened my mouth to answer but realized there was nothing I could tell him. Daniel watched me closely, and I suddenly was aware of what a stupid position I had put myself in. I was alone in a car, in the dark, with a man I really didn’t know, who had an excellent reason for killing Gerald Ramsey. I inched backward toward the door. Daniel saw the movement and frowned. “What doesn’t make sense?” he repeated.
“I’d really rather not say,” I said. “I think we probably should go inside.”
“I agree. But before we do, I think I should tell you—if you’re trying to play sleuth here—stay away from Lauren and Polly. They had nothing to do with Gerald’s murder. And I will not let them be dragged through the mud just so you can divert attention from your aunt.”
“That’s not what I’m doing!”
“The hell it isn’t,” he said, yanking his key out of the ignition. He glared at me, his pupils cold black dots. The inside of the car seemed to shrink. What had minutes ago been a cozy atmosphere was now decidedly claustrophobic. He leaned toward me and said in a low voice, “Leave Lauren and Polly alone.”
I was too startled to answer. His blue eyes watched me with a guarded expression. Rolling down the window, he threw out his cigarette butt. A blast of cold air rushed in, but its chill was nothing compared to the arctic atmosphere between us. He took a deep breath and forced a smile back onto his face. “What are we doing here, anyway?” he said. “Arguing about nothing. All I’m saying is that Lauren and Polly are my friends, and I don’t want to see them hurt. Just as you don’t want to see your aunt hurt. And to be honest, I’m worried about you.”
“About me? But why?”
He shrugged slightly. “Call it a gut feeling. A man was murdered here, after all. If word gets out that you’re poking around, you could be in danger. You know what they say about curiosity killing the cat.” He tipped my chin up with his fingers as he said this. “Just be careful, okay?”
I could only nod my head in agreement.
Once inside, he bade me a chaste good night in the foyer. As he disappeared up the stairs, I wondered about his bringing up curiosity killing the cat. Was it a well-intended warning or a veiled threat? The thought of cats made me think of Lady Catherine and the dining room. Every night since I’d arrived, it had been the scene of one kind of
