Stoneview Estate. Leona Karr

Stoneview Estate - Leona Karr


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studied Brian in a calculating, measuring way, as if suspicious of his Good Samaritan role.

      He couldn’t blame her. She must be used to hangers-on trying to manipulate her and her money. He applauded her caution. In police work he dealt with too many victims who failed to be wary when it came to strangers invading their lives.

      He felt a little guilty as he lied, “Joe would want me to help out. He has fond memories of this house, and I know he’s going to love hearing about it. I bet there’s been a lot a changes in it since he lived here.”

      Robyn’s forehead smoothed slightly. “I’m sorry he isn’t well enough to come. Maybe we can telephone him and let a few people say hello to him?”

      Was her suggestion an innocent or a calculating one? Had she already become suspicious of his premature arrival?

      Brian knew that if this smart lady really put her mind to it, tracking down Joe Keller in the hospital or nursing home wouldn’t be all that difficult.

      “I’ll certainly tell him people asked about him,” Brian said, sidestepping her suggestion.

      “Well, let’s get on it,” Nick urged. “I knew we should have stored the extra chairs in the basement. I told Mrs. Valcourt lugging them up and down from the attic was a waste of time.”

      “I agree, Nick. Grandmother got used to having a lot of paid help when she lived abroad.”

      “Well, turning the rec room into a cabaret for one evening is going to demand a lot of extra work.”

      “I know. If the boathouse is usable, some of the crowd will head there for drinks and dancing, but others will probably stay downstairs in the rec room.” She turned off the computer and rose to her feet. “I’ll check the arrangement of the tables while you bring down the chairs.”

      “Why don’t you leave some of that for the extra hired help?” Nick frowned. “When are they coming?”

      “Two days before the affair. Grandmother thought that would be early enough.”

      Nick grumbled something inaudible.

      “I know.” Robyn smiled at him. “That’s what you get for working miracles every time she comes up with one of her ideas, Nick. She knows you’ll come through for her.”

      “Maybe not this time,” he threatened, but there was little conviction in his tone. “Well, come on, Brian, let’s get at it.”

      The stairway to the attic opened off of the back hall and rose to a third floor that spanned the width of the house. At one end was an enclosed storeroom, apparently filled with items like folding chairs that were used from time to time.

      The rest of the attic looked like a garage sale gone berserk. Barrels, trunks, metal lockers, pictures, stored furniture and miscellaneous discards of all kinds covered every inch of floor space.

      Was this the accumulation from all the five families who had lived in the house? Brian wondered. The nursery and nanny’s room had probably been stripped before the Valcounts bought the house. Were any of Heather’s personal effects stored in the boxes that were stacked throughout the attic?

      Brian wanted to question Nick about the possibility, but he knew he had to wait. Rushing things could land him out of the house on his ear. He mentally made a note to make a personal search of the attic at the first safe opportunity.

      As they started bringing chairs down to the basement, Brian was surprised at the spaciousness of the recreation room. Not only was there a full bar, but a nice-size dance floor, complete with a large jukebox that would have made any antique dealer drool.

      “Does it still work?” Brian asked, peering at the layered 78 rpm records.

      He was startled when Robyn unexpectedly came up behind him and plugged in a cord. Instantly, the machine glowed with gaudy colors and blinking lights. As she touched a selection, one of the 78 rpm records dropped smoothly into place.

      He laughed when the bouncy notes of “Chattanooga Choo Choo” filled the room. Robyn swayed slightly in rhythm with the music, and he was startled by the relaxed sweetness of her mouth and the dreamy softness in her eyes. Soft wisps of gingery hair highlighted her smooth complexion, and long seductive curls caressed her cheeks. One thing he knew for certain—every ounce of Robyn Valcourt’s supple body was aching to dance!

      Boldly, he reached out, took her hands and twirled her in a complete spin before she had a chance to protest. He eased her into position and grinned at her. “Shall we dance?”

      Without giving her an option, he quickly initiated some easy jitterbug steps. Not only did she follow him, but even challenged him to match some intricate patterns of her own. She threw back her head and laughed at his expression of surprise. By the time the record ended, both of them were breathing heavily and laughing.

      Nick shook his head. He’d been watching them with an expression of disbelief on his face. “What is it with you two?” he chided impatiently. “Are we going to get this place ready or not?”

      Brian watched Robyn’s countenance suddenly lose its effervescence. Tense lines immediately replaced the smile curves around her lips. She looked a little like a child who’d been caught shirking her duties. He wanted to say something, but didn’t know what might be appropriate. He couldn’t take a chance on ruining this unexpected connection with her.

      “What about it, Brian?” Nick demanded. “Are you going to help or not?”

      “Sure thing,” he answered smoothly. He wondered if Nick’s irritation was really about work, or if he was jealous of Robyn’s attention. “Thanks for the dance,” he told her, and then turned to follow Nick up the stairs.

      ROBYN HAD LEARNED dances of different kinds the year her parents were stationed in France. Embassy kids attending the same school had access to a jukebox and indulged in a lot of impromptu parties. Unfortunately, after Robyn came to live with her grandmother her social life had not included many dances. In secret, she’d enjoyed the private pleasure of spending time in the rec room, playing the jukebox and dancing by herself.

      As she caught her breath, she realized what a delight it was to be actually dancing with a smooth, easy-moving partner whose gentle but firm touch guided her with such persuasion. When he’d twirled her away from him in a dizzying spin, and then brought her back to him, she’d let herself lean shamelessly against him. She had abandoned herself to the joy of the music and the harmony of their bodies moving together.

      Nick’s critical remarks had quickly dissipated the release and exuberance she’d felt while dancing. As she caught her breath, she realized that it might be a little embarrassing to be around Brian Keller after what had happened.

      “I need some air,” she said as she brushed back some moist hair clinging to her forehead.

      The sky was slightly overcast as she left the house by the main door. Clouds passing in front of the moon sent flickering shadows through branches of tall oak trees and across the lawn. The quiet seclusion of the vine-covered gazebo beckoned her. Sitting down on one of the small benches, she kept going over in her mind the disturbing way she’d reacted to Brian Keller.

      It was the darn music. That’s what had made her forget herself. She certainly hadn’t been trying to make time with Joe Keller’s relative. Even now she flushed, remembering the intimate way he had smiled at her. He must have known how much she enjoyed dancing with him. Had he deliberately exploited the situation? Something about him just didn’t ring true. She wanted to know a lot more about him before she let herself accept Brian Keller at face value. He was too damn sexy. And I’m too damn lonely.

      The admission was lost when her ears suddenly were assaulted by a high-pitched wailing. The noise was too abrasive for an infant’s cry, and yet that’s what it resembled.

      What on earth…? Cautiously, she stepped out of the gazebo. As her gaze swept the expanse of lawn and nearby landscaped areas, she couldn’t see anything that might be responsible for the strange cry.


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