Sara was smiling. Glad he was finally understanding.
“A play,” he said. “With actors!” He blinked a few times. “Jack looks like Sean.”
“And the others are here.”
They were looking at each other with wide eyes and heaving breasts.
“Is this writer sex?” Kate asked but they didn’t answer.
“They will see only their own part.” Sara was so out of breath her chest was like a runner’s. “Do you know enough?”
“Not by a mile. Jack can get Nadine to tell all.”
“Willa will love ratting on Clive.”
“And it’s all for a cause,” Byon said. “After your photos today, we have a purpose.”
Kate was beginning to understand what they were thinking. “One of them is a murderer,” she said. “One of the people here is going to lie to cover up and hide.”
Byon and Sara didn’t break eye contact.
“We’ll not tell them. We’ll do it one by one.” Sara’s voice was hoarse.
Byon nodded. “That dress.” He pointed to a bit of silk sticking out from the pile of clothes. “Nadine wore that on that night.” His eyes widened until they must have hurt. “You will film it.”
Sara looked like she’d seen the Gates of Heaven. “I’ve always wanted to try video. It’s the untouched red button on my camera. I’ll need lights.”
“London,” Byon said.
“Yes. Clive. London,” Sara agreed.
They turned in unison to Kate.
“Sorry, darling,” Byon said, “but you must leave. We writers have work to do.”
“And this lowly peasant has no place in that lordly kingdom,” Kate said.
When they didn’t smile, she left the attic, her eyes rolling back into her head. “The Writers’ Pack,” she muttered, and went to find Jack.
Nineteen
Two hours later, the whole house seemed to be abuzz with whispers. Byon and Sara had left the attic and were in a meeting with Nadine, Clive and Willa. They had their heads bent so close together their hair was touching. Since Kate wasn’t invited to join them, she stood to the side and watched. At first, she thought it was her imagination, but Clive was sitting quite close to Willa.
Kate went upstairs to dress for dinner. How Edwardian, she thought. She put on nice trousers, a silk blouse, a soft jacket and pretty flats. Screw the heels, she thought, then went downstairs. They were all there and dressed up—except for Willa, who looked like a “before” photo—and they were all whispering among themselves. When they saw Kate, they quit talking and looked at her.
“I...” She took a step backward. They seemed to be discussing something that they didn’t want Kate to hear.
Sara, sitting on the couch at the center of all of them, gave her a look to say GO! There was envy in her eyes.
Turning on her heel, Kate took off running down the hall. Where is Jack? she wondered. She hadn’t heard him in the room next to hers so maybe he was outside.
She slipped out a side door into the dark night. She didn’t think about where he was, she knew: the stables. There were path lights, but with all the day workers gone, she was alone. Was this how it was with Nadine and Sean? she wondered. There had been few workers then, so the grounds were empty.
As she hoped they would be, the lights in the stable were on and a door open. The sound of hammering made her smile. Jack and tools were like chocolate and raspberries, movies and popcorn, and in his case, men and iron.
Smiling, she went into the building toward the sound, then drew in her breath. Jack was sideways to her, nailing up a wooden panel—and he was shirtless.
Oh! but he was beautiful. Sometimes she forgot what other women saw instantly. To her, he was just Jack, the man who took care of her and Sara. Got them out of tough spots, kept them from getting too upset about things, and now and then saved their lives. And Jack cared about people.
He had stopped hammering, but he didn’t turn around. “Keep looking at me like that and it won’t end well.”
For a moment, Kate considered that. But no. Not here, not now. She shook her head to get it back to reality. “What are you doing?”
He nodded toward the old desk behind him. On it was an envelope, yellow and curled from age. The words TO MY LOVE were on the outside. He went back to hammering.
She picked up the envelope and saw it was sealed. Had he been waiting to open it so they could do it together?
“There, done.” He put down the hammer.
She looked from him to the panel he’d been working on, then back. “Let me guess. It was driving you crazy about what Nadine was looking for in here.”
“You know me too well. You look nice.” He leaned toward her, his shirtless body almost touching her, and put his lips by her ear. “Smell nice too,” he whispered.
Kate’s pulse started racing. “I’m not one of your—” She started to push him away. She put both her hands on his bare chest. “Jack,” she whispered as their eyes met.
There was a moment when they had a decision to make. Yes or no?
Kate leaned forward just a bit and so did Jack.
He was the one who stepped away and turned his back on her—and the moment was lost.
His shirt and jacket were hanging on the back of the old chair and he put the shirt on. He nodded toward the letter. “I remembered seeing that there had been new wooden panels put over the bricks. Probably put in to cover up decay. Lazy owners.” He was talking fast. “I looked everywhere to find tools. Had to sneak them out from under Mrs. A’s nose. Then I figured I’d get my shirt sweaty so I took it off. When I took the panel down, I found a loose brick, and there it was.”
Kate was feeling more in control. His shirt was on, but not buttoned. She stepped forward and put her hand on his warm skin. She could feel the curve of his muscles underneath. “After this,” she said softly, “let’s still go to Scotland. Just us.”
He nodded, seemingly unable to say anything. He touched her hair, just for a moment, but it was enough.
With a step back, he broke contact. “What’s it like inside?”
His words brought her back to the present. “Chaos. They’re planning something. I’ve figured out some but not all of it. They get quiet when I enter the room.”
“Do they?” He raised an eyebrow. “I have the keys to Nadine’s Jag. How about if we go out to a pub about two villages away? I hear it has a live band.”