Fear Familiar Bundle (151 page)

"Mr. Legander, I don't want to upset you, but is there anyone who might benefit if your…reputation…suffered?" James asked the question as he stared into the amber depths of his brandy.

"Everyone has enemies," Eugene answered. "But who would possibly benefit? No one."

James looked at Jennifer. "Do you agree?"

She thought a moment. It was one of the questions she'd been asking herself, and the answer wasn't as simple as it had first seemed. "There's no one apparent who would benefit." She framed her answer carefully.

James looked down into his drink, then back up at her. His brown eyes watched every flicker of emotion on her face. "You see, I was wondering if it might be some publicity stunt you'd cooked up to promote Mr. Legander's new book."

"Get out!" Jennifer stood. She pointed to the door. "Get out before I tie you in a knot and throw you off the porch."

Eugene stood, also. "Mr. Tenet, that's an unfair accusation. I think you owe Jennifer an apology. She's one of the most professional publicists I've ever known, and whether you know it or not, what you're accusing her of is an ethical violation."

James stood. He'd caught one full blast of the scalding anger in Jennifer's eyes and almost— almost— regretted his statement. He'd meant to bait her, but it had gone much further than that. She wasn't merely angry, she was injured, too. Perhaps he should apologize.

"I didn't mean…"

"I know exactly what you meant." Jennifer pointed to the door again. "Get out now while you can still walk."

"Jennifer." Eugene's reprimand was gentle. "I think we can discuss this in a civilized way. Mr. Tenet obviously isn't aware of the accusation he's made. Surely he— "

"He knows. And he did it deliberately." She took the drink from his hand. "I knew it was a mistake when Eugene invited you over. At least now I'll be prepared for the lies that will be printed in tomorrow's paper. Just let me warn you— there's a little girl missing tonight and if your newspaper does anything to jeopardize her safety, you'll be sorry. Very sorry."

Blue sparks leapt from her eyes. James regretted that he was being thrown out, but he knew that retreat was his best policy now. "It wouldn't be the first time a publicist used a stunt to great advantage. I wasn't accusing you of actually doing it."

"It just crossed your mind that I might be capable of such a thing. To use a child, to frighten the child's parents, to get the entire town stirred up and concerned simply to promote a book. It just crossed your mind that I might be capable of such behavior."

James saw the anger deepen in the flush of her cheeks. He'd better leave before she picked up something and brained him. Jennifer Barkley struck him as a woman of action, not of words. "There are plenty of publicists who wouldn't hesitate."

"Well, I'm one who would." Jennifer could feel her body beginning to tremble. "I would very definitely balk at such a thing. And Grand Street Press would not allow it, Mr. Tenet. So keep that in mind if you have any more brainstorms about my involvement in the disappearance of a child."

"I will." He nodded at Eugene and left.

Jennifer shut the door with more force than necessary. "The nerve of that man." She found she could draw a deep breath at last.

"Indeed, the nerve." Eugene was completely unperturbed.

"He accused me of using a child to further your book."

"He did," Eugene agreed. "That's rather original, don't you think?"

"I do not think it is original. I think it is reprehensible. He's a slime to even have thought of it.
He
probably wouldn't hesitate to use such a ploy. That's why he thought of it. But to accuse me…"

"It isn't as if he knows you well." Eugene went to the decanter and brought it over to refill her glass. "Sip a little, dear. You're all aflutter."

"I don't want to sip. I want to punch him in the nose." She sipped the brandy. Now that the first rush of anger was over, she realized her feelings were badly bruised by his accusation. Did he really think she was the type of person who would callously use a small child to gain publicity for a book? He must have a very low opinion of her indeed. "He must think I'm scum." Jennifer spoke the words aloud without really meaning to.

Eugene's look was sharp. "I doubt that." He didn't bother to hide his growing amusement.

"It isn't funny."

"I disagree." He chuckled, knowing he was only making her more angry.

"What's so blasted funny?" She put her hands on her hips.

"You are, my dear. And Mr. Tenet. I believe he stepped off the end of the pier before he tested the depth of the water." He chuckled again. "He didn't intend to accuse you, but it just happened."

"He said it in plain English." Jennifer couldn't believe her ears. "He didn't stutter. And I'm not dreaming. How can you defend him?"

"It's a guy thing," Eugene said, laughing again at her furrowed brow and dark blue, sparkling eyes. "You see, you're one of those unfortunate people who are truly beautiful when you're angry. I believe he intended to tickle your anger. Instead he fanned a real flame. Then he had to retreat." He laughed harder. "His expression was priceless. Very much like the young boy who breaks the window with a baseball."

At Eugene's explanation, Jennifer felt her anger dissipate. Her favorite aunt, Beth, had delighted in teasing her into a fury, as had her grandmother, grandfather, and all of her classmates. They'd claimed she was amusing when she was angry.

"You threatened to tie him in a knot and throw him off the porch." Eugene finished his brandy and laughed softly. "He was impressed. And more than a little smitten. I think he relishes the idea of you laying hands on him in any fashion."

"Eugene!" Anger had given way to complete shock. Eugene Legander was playing matchmaker— and he was actually championing James Tenet's cause. "He's a muck-raking reporter. A scandalmonger. A troublemaker. A…"

Eugene covered his ears. "Enough. To quote a very famous literary figure, 'the lady doth protest too much."' His blue eyes twinkled. "Now go home before you pop a blood vessel. You're far too excited by this to be able to deny the fact that you find Mr. Tenet attractive. You forget, my dear, that I've spent the last five decades observing behavior— human and feline. The little rituals between the male and female are obvious to me."

Jennifer couldn't stop the blush that crawled up her neck and into her cheeks. She wasn't angry, she was caught. She did find James Tenet attractive— God help her. But she'd never lower her personal standards to actually go out with the man. Even if he did ask her.

"Go home." Eugene waved her toward the door. "Why don't we go to Billie's for breakfast? I want to ask around the neighborhood about Mimi. If she hasn't returned home, I think we should look for her. I have some ideas, some secret places she's told me about."

Jennifer hesitated. It was an awful thing, but she had to calculate the reaction if Uncle Eugene found the little girl. There would be those— particularly Crush Bonbon— who would say that he'd found her because he'd put her there. But finding the girl was the priority. She'd handle the fallout from there, if there was any.

"Are you okay?" Eugene asked as he gave her a hug at the door.

"Yes. I was just thinking about my job." She didn't tell him the details. She was almost as bad as James had accused her of being.

"You work too hard." Eugene kissed her cheek and gently pushed her out the door.

As she walked down the walk lined by tallow trees and willows that had just budded into electric green leaf, she heard Eugene singing to the cats. He liked Italian opera, and he insisted that the cats did, too.

Jennifer smiled as she drove toward home.

W
ITH A CUP OF COFFEE
in her hand, she walked out onto the sidewalk of her small cottage and picked up the morning newspaper. She dreaded looking through the stories to see what James had written about Eugene's party. It was just plain rotten bad luck that he'd witnessed Crush's attack. Just rotten luck. How often had she invited reporters to attend social events honoring Eugene and none had shown up? And of all the reporters the newspaper could have sent, why had it been James? He normally covered hard news, courts and trials and murders— the big stories. What was he doing at a book-signing party, drat it?

She took her coffee and the newspaper to the small sunroom at the back of her house and sat down to read. Mockingbirds, grackles, bluejays and cardinals clustered around the bird feeder she'd installed, filling the air with their gossip and arguments.

She skimmed the national news, cringing at the reports of war-ravaged countries, then turned to the Metro section. The headline stopped her: Author Feted And Accused. There it was, in black and white. She read James Tenet's story, saw that it was mostly focused on the success of Eugene's book-signing party, with a mention of the accusations made by Crush Bonbon.

She had to bite her lip to keep from laughing at Tenet's description of the big Bonbon careering into the room and dramatically pointing his finger. And Tenet had accurately captured Eugene's posture of defense— the fencing master with the pretend rapier. It was very funny stuff.

And Crush Bonbon came off looking like a fool, while Eugene had style. There was no mention of the accusation made by Daisy Adams, and Jennifer took a long, deep breath of relief. James had done a very fair job of it. She felt a tingle of remorse at her hasty words to him.

When the phone rang, she picked it up, still scanning the paper. "Hello?"

"I heard an eruption of Mount Vesuvius was due at the Barkley residence this morning— after the newspapers were delivered. My editor wants me to take some photos."

Despite herself, Jennifer couldn't help laughing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Tenet, you were misinformed. No eruptions are planned for today."

"This is a pity. I do enjoy a good display of fire and molten lava. Not to mention, heated blasts of air."

"Is there a purpose to this call?" Jennifer could not control the sudden beating of her heart.

"Only a humble apology. And to beg your forgiveness. Eugene cautioned me to wait until this morning, when you'd had time to cool down."

"I see." Jennifer sipped her coffee. Instead of being angry, she was shamelessly pleased. It mattered to James that he had falsely accused her. And, drat it all, it mattered to her that it mattered to him!

"I am sorry, Jennifer. I know you're ethical. I'm on my bended knee. In my bedroom." There was a wicked pause. "Wearing nothing but my— "

"I get the picture." She felt the heat travel up her body. She did get the picture. All of it. In perfect detail. And it made her decidedly unsettled. "Your apology is accepted, and I want to thank you for calling. Now
I
have to get back to work. Goodbye."

She replaced the receiver, her heart pounding. He was a demon. And she could almost hear him laughing at her once again.

To gather her wits, she spread the paper out on the white table and forced herself to focus. The story about Mimi Frost stopped her cold. The little girl had still been missing at press time, and none of her friends knew anything about her whereabouts.

Jennifer finished her coffee, folded the paper and hurried into the shower. She would help Eugene hunt for the girl. Mimi had to be somewhere. And Jennifer prayed that she was safe.

Twenty minutes later she pulled up in front of Eugene's house and blew the horn. He came out, dressed in boots and trousers, ready to poke among shrubs and abandoned buildings. To Jennifer's surprise, a big, handsome, black cat was also sitting on the porch. As soon as Eugene came toward the car, the cat followed. With complete aplomb, the cat hopped into the back seat when Eugene opened the door.

"I didn't think you let your cats out," she said, glancing into the back seat. Did they really need to baby-sit a cat? It might get sick in the hot car.

"It isn't mine. That's the cat that Eleanor brought with her. Familiar. He's extraordinary."

"Meow." The cat rubbed against Eugene's neck and cast a long, green look at Jennifer.

She saw the intelligence, and the wit, in the animal's glance. "Is he going with us?"

"Meow."

"I assume he is. He seems to want to go." Eugene shrugged. "Cats are very independent creatures. I think we should let him come."

"I don't know." Jennifer gripped the steering wheel. Before she could do anything, the cat leapt over the seat and swatted the key, seemingly demanding that she turn the ignition switch.

"I think he wants to get the show on the road," Eugene said, looking straight ahead as if it were perfectly normal for a cat to hijack a car.

Jennifer raised her hands, palms up. "I give up. He can come."

S
HE HAS AN INFLAMMATORY
temper, but Madame Spitfire is a piece of cake for a cat like me. She likes a challenge. Definitely. And I like her. She even smells delicious, like one of those fragile white blossoms that grow in all the yards here. I think I'll just stay here on the front seat, beside her. Ah, breakfast. Good. This looks like a place for sausage and eggs. Maybe some grits. I haven't had any really good grits since I left Cassandra's house in Tennessee. Eleanor, that darling thing, isn't much on breakfast foods.

Now that breakfast is going to be taken care of, I'll turn my brain power toward the missing kid. I have a few ideas about this little girl, and I think I can train Eugene faster than any other human around here. Too bad Eleanor had to cut and run. We've gotten to where we work very effectively as a team. She's sort of my Watson, if you will. A few bites to give me the energy necessary to put my feline brain into high gear, and then we'll have this little girl home where she belongs. I want to have this concluded before Eleanor and Peter return to take me home.

"I
STILL CAN'T BELIEVE
they allowed that cat in the restaurant." Jennifer gave Familiar a skeptical look. The cat acted for all the world as if he had every right to go wherever he chose. He'd even pointed out his breakfast selections from the menu with one quick black paw. Eugene had interpreted, and darned if the cat hadn't eaten every single thing put in front of him. He was like a garbage disposal. "And I thought cats were supposed to be finicky eaters. I've never seen a cat eat grits!"