Ryan locked eyes with hers, then turned away and began to administer aid to a surprisingly quieted Regina. After a few minutes of prodding and poking, he said, “Nothing’s broken, but she needs ice and a pillow for under her knee. Her nose will be fine, but she’ll have a bump and a black eye or two.”
Regina was speechless for the first time since she’d entered the room. She looked up at Ryan like he was not just her knight in armor, but also the Holy Grail.
“She needs to be in bed,” he said.
Aunt Amelia got up and walked to the doorway of Fenton’s apartment. “Follow me.”
Ryan scooped up Regina. She gazed up at him with a goofy grin on her face as he carried her through the doorway that led to the interior of the hotel.
Liz thought Regina should have gone to the hospital. How were they supposed to take care of her here at the hotel? Regina didn’t want Liz around, which left only Aunt Amelia to deal with her. Poor Aunt Amelia. Perhaps the housekeeper might grace them with her presence. Now, there was an idea.
“I need to be on my way,” Agent Pearson said, as she kissed Fenton on the cheek. “Nice meeting you, Liz.” Then she headed to the door leading outside.
“I’ll go with you,” said David. He picked up his umbrella. “We can share my umbrella.”
He opened the door and the two stepped through the doorway and out into the storm. Liz didn’t understand why David hadn’t followed Ryan and his wife. Well, maybe she did understand—the fury of the storm outside was a better alternative than Regina’s wrath.
“I suppose I’d better go check on Mrs. Worth, from a lawyer’s point of view,” her father said. “Her talk of suing the hotel will give Aunt Amelia a sleepless night or two, I’m sure.”
“That woman will be the death of us all.”
Chapter 13
Pierre had made his salmon wrapped in crêpes and brought the meal up to the Worths’ suite on a sterling silver tray. A tray that Liz had had to polish because Iris had been sent to the drugstore to buy gauze, Ace bandages, ice packs, and other sundries from one of Regina’s extensive lists. Apparently, Liz wasn’t allowed to go anywhere near Regina, which wasn’t a hardship in her mind.
Aunt Amelia had been in a tizzy about the possibility of Regina suing the hotel for her injuries, recalling a Perry Mason episode in which she’d had a bit part that didn’t turn out well for the main character, who was an innkeeper. Liz had tried to calm her by saying that Regina didn’t have a leg to stand on, a fitting cliché, because Regina hadn’t even gone to the hospital. Ryan seemed to be all she needed.
Betty and Captain Netherton ate dinner in the kitchen. Liz thought of joining them, but she knew Betty had the hots for the distinguished captain, so instead she packed up a healthy portion of Pierre’s crêpes to take back to the beach house.
She stepped out the kitchen door and started on the path toward home. The storm had passed, but the winds remained. When she got to the south end of the Indialantic’s drive, she saw Brittany, accompanied by Ryan, walking in her direction.
Brittany wore too much foundation, in a shade that didn’t match her neck. In the time Liz had been away, Brittany had changed her hair color from brown to overprocessed blond and she’d begun to wear heavy, gold-toned jewelry that made her look forty instead of twenty-eight.
Liz stopped and waited until they reached her.
Ryan still looked like Ryan: dark, frowning, and slightly irritated when he glanced Liz’s way. The difference in height between him and Brittany reminded Liz of Killer and Caro. Liz also remembered the couple of lovers she’d seen in the fog earlier—and their obvious height difference.
Liz marched up to Brittany. “Good. Just the woman I wanted to see. Have you confirmed that both of your models will be on time tomorrow and what they’ll be wearing? We open at ten in the morning.”
Brittany grabbed onto Ryan’s arm. “I told you she was a bossy pants. I have everything under control as usual. I hope my advertising dollars have been put to good use.”
Ryan remained mute, except for an irritated eye roll that said more than words.
Liz said, “I’ll be on my way then.”
Brittany took a step closer, and the heavy gold-toned chain around her neck almost looked like the real thing. “Yes. Do that.”
As Liz walked away, a pebble got stuck between her sandal and the ball of her foot. She had to hobble along, feeling Ryan’s gaze branding a big Loser sign across her back.
When she reached the end of the drive and the path to her house, she heard Ryan shout, “Stop!”
Liz ignored him. She wasn’t at his command. Then she felt his large hand on her shoulder. She whipped around to face him. “What?”
Ryan looked behind him and held up his hand to Brittany, gesturing that he’d be right back to her. When he turned back to Liz, he tried a different tactic. He gave Liz an ear-to-ear smile that reached his deep brown eyes, just as a gust of wind blew a glossy lank of dark hair onto his forehead. With the stubble on his face, he reminded Liz of a pirate.
Liz had a thing about pirates.
“We need to talk about our assignment,” Ryan said.
“Assignment! What assignment?”
Brittany started toward them.
“Your father didn’t tell you?” He looked in Brittany’s direction. “We should talk in private.”
Liz hesitated, but her curiosity won out. “Okay, come to my beach house in an hour.”
“How
