this. Wanting each other like this.” Filled with the moment, she pressed his hand to her lips. “Holt, do you believe that fate and time can run in a circle?”
“I'm beginning to.”
“They still come here, to wait. I wonder if they ever find each other. I think they will, if we can make things right.” She kissed him again, then slipped an arm around his waist. “Let's go home. I have a feeling it's going to be an interesting evening.”
“Suzanna,” he began as they started back. “After the seance...” He trailed off, looking pained, and made her laugh.
“Don't worry, at The Towers we only have friendly ghosts.”
“Right Just don't expect me to put much stock in chanting and trances, but anyway, I was wondering if after – look, I know you don't like to leave the kids, but I thought you could come back to my place for a little while. There's some stuff I want to talk to you about.”
“What stuff?”
“Just – stuff,” he said lamely. If he was going to ask her to marry him, he wanted to do it right. “I'd appreciate it if you could get away for an hour or two.”
“All right, if it's important. Is it about the emeralds?”
“No. It's...I'd rather wait, okay? Listen, I've got a couple of things to do before we start calling up spirits.”
“Aren't you going to stay for dinner?”
“I can't. I'll be back.” As they came up the slope and passed the stone wall, he pulled her against him for a brief hard kiss. “See you later.”
She frowned after him and might have pursued, but her name was called from the second – level terrace. Shading her eyes, she saw her sister.
“Amanda!” With a laugh, she raced across the lawn and up the stone steps. “What are you doing back?” She gathered the new bride into her arms and squeezed. “You look wonderful – but you were supposed to be gone nearly another week. Is anything wrong?”
“No, nothing.” She kissed both of Suzanna's cheeks. “Come on, I'll fill you in.”
“Where are we going?”
“Bianca's tower. Family meeting.”
They climbed up, then went inside to ascend the narrow circular stairs that led to the tower. C.C. and Lilah were already waiting.
“Aunt Coco?” Suzanna asked.
“We'll let her know what we discuss,” Amanda answered. “But it would look too suspicious if we pulled her up here now.”
With a nod, Suzanna took a seat on the floor at Lilah's feet. “So I take it this is women only?”
“No more than they deserve,” C.C. said, and crossed her arms. “They've been skulking off to have their boy's club meetings for days now. It's time we set things straight.”
“Max has definitely got something up his sleeve,” Lilah put in. “He's acting much too innocent. And, he's been hanging around the construction crew for the last couple of days.”
“I don't suppose he wants to learn how to set tile,” Suzanna murmured.
“If he did, he'd have twenty books on it by now.” Lilah rolled her shoulders and leaned back. “And this afternoon when I got home from work, I saw Trent and Holt powwowing in the pergola. Somebody who didn't know better might have thought they were just hanging out and having a beer, but something was going on.”
“So they know something they're not telling us.” Thoughtful, Suzanna drummed her fingers on her knees. She'd had a feeling something was going on, but Holt had done such a good job of distracting her, she hadn't acted on it.
“Sloan had a long, mumbling conversation with Trent on the phone two days ago. He claimed there was some problem with materials that he had to see to personally.” Tossing her hair, Amanda gave a sniff. “And he thought I was stupid enough to buy it. He wanted to get back because they're on to something – and they want to keep the little women out of the way.”
“Fat chance,” C.C. muttered. “I'm for marching downstairs right now and demanding they tell us whatever they know. If Trent thinks I'm going to sit around twiddling my thumbs while he handles Calhoun business, he's got another think coming.”
“Bamboo shoots and brass knuckles,” Lilah mused, not terribly displeased with the image. “That'll just make them more stubborn. Male egos on the line, ladies. Get out your hard hats and flak jackets.”
Suzanna laughed and patted her leg. “You've got a point. Let's see what we know... Sloan gets called back so they must think they're getting close. I can't see them being secretive if they thought they'd hit on the location of the emeralds.”
“Neither can I.” Because she thought best on her feet, Amanda paced. “Remember how stiff – necked they got when we decided to look for the yacht Max had jumped off? Sloan threatened to...what was it? Hog – tie,” she said viciously. “Yes, that was it. He threatened to hog – tie me if I so much as thought about trying to find Livingston on my own.”
“Trent won't even discuss Livingston with me,” C.C. added, then wrinkled her nose. “It isn't good for me to be upset in my delicate condition.”
From her sprawled perch on the window seat, Lilah gave a hoot. “I'd like to see any man go through childbirth then have the nerve to call a woman delicate.”
“Holt says that Livingston is out of our league. Ours,” Suzanna explained, making a circular motion with her finger. “Not his.”
“Jerk.” C.C. plopped down on the window seat beside Lilah. “So are we agreed? They've got a line on Livingston and they're keeping it to themselves.”
The vote was unanimous.
“Now, we need to find out what they know.” Amanda stopped pacing and tapped her foot. “Suggestions?”
“Well...” Suzanna looked down at her nails and smiled. “I say divide and conquer. The four of us should be able to dig information out of the meach in our own way. Then we rendezvous here, tomorrow, same time, and put the pieces together.”
“I like it.” Lilah sat up to put a hand on Suzanna's shoulder. “The poor guys haven't got a chance.”
Suzanna reached up to lay her hand on Lilah's as Amanda and C.C. added theirs. “And when it's over,” she said, “maybe they'll realize the Calhoun women take care of their own.”
Chapter Eleven
Holt had never felt more ridiculous in his life. He was about to take part in a seance. If that wasn't bad enough, before the night was over, he was going to ask the woman who was currently laughing at him, to be his wife.
“It isn't a firing squad.” Chuckling, Suzanna patted his cheek. “Relax.”
“Damn foolishness is what it is.” From the foot of the table, Colleen scowled at everyone in general. “The idea of talking to spirits. Hogwash. And you –” She stabbed a finger toward Coco. “Not that you ever kept an ounce of sense in that flighty head of yours, but I'd have thought even you would know better than to raise these girls on such bilge.”
“It isn't bilge.” As always, the steely gaze made Coco tremble, but she felt fairly safe with the length of the table between them. “You'll see after we begin.”
“What I see is a table full of dolts.” Though her face remained in stern lines, Colleen's heart melted as she looked up at the portrait of her mother, which had been hung over the fireplace. “I'll give you ten thousand for it.”
Holt shrugged. She'd been dogging him for days about buying the painting. “It isn't for sale.”
“If you think you're going to hose me, young man, you're mistaken. I know a hustle.”
