off the weapon, taken the keys—because she’d have remembered how I’d fought with Eve the night before.”
“She heard you drive up,” Frank told her. “Saw you walk into the garden. That’s when she decided to throw suspicion on you. She got the hell out. She was the one who turned the security back on. It scared her when she found the main switch off. She figured it would complicate things, so she turned it on again and went back to work. Oh, and she made sure to call down to the kitchen, so Travers and the cook would know she was busy transcribing letters.”
“But she didn’t know Drake had seen her.” Julia leaned back and closed her eyes.
“He tried to blackmail her.” Frank shook his head as he built another towering sandwich. “She could afford the money, but not the loose end. With him dead and you heading for prison, she knew she was away free. Travers was so loyal to Eve that she would never have told anyone about Nina’s background—and she’d have no reason to.”
“I heard them,” Julia remembered. “The night of Eve’s party I heard someone arguing. Delrickio and Nina. She was crying.”
“Seeing him again didn’t do much for Nina’s state of mind,” Frank put in. “She still loved the sleaze. He told her she could prove it by getting Eve to stop the book. She must have really started to crack that night. I got to figure some of her mother’s poison was still swimming around in her system. When she couldn’t stop Eve one way, she stopped her another.”
“It’s funny.” Julia said half to herself. “It all began with Charlie Gray. He gave Eve her start. His was the first story she told me. And now it ends with him.”
“Don’t spill that sandwich on the way out, Frank,” Paul murmured, and gestured to the door.
“What? Oh, yeah. The D.A. notified Hathoway,” he said as he rose. “He said to tell Julia to call if she had any questions. He was taking his son to a ball game. See you around.”
“Lieutenant.” Julia opened her eyes. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure. You know, I never noticed before how much you look like her.” He took another huge bite of the sandwich. “She sure was one fine-looking lady.” He went out, eating.
“You okay?” Paul asked.
“Yes.” Julia drew a deep breath. It still burned a little, but it reminded her she was alive, and free. “Yes, I’m fine. Do you know what I’d like? I’d like a very tall glass of champagne.”
“That’s never a problem in this house.” He walked over to the refrigerator behind the bar.
Rising, she walked over to stand on the opposite side of the bar. Eve’s robe slid off one shoulder. While she watched Paul, Julia adjusted it, smoothed it—her fingers lingering for a moment as if she were touching on old friend. Though he smiled a little at the gesture, he said nothing. She wondered if he had noticed that Eve’s scent still clung to the silk.
“I have a question.”
“Fire away.” Paul ripped the foil off a bottle and began untwisting the wire.
“Are you going to marry me?”
The cork exploded out. Paul ignored the froth spilling over the side, and watched her. Her eyes were cautious, the way he liked them best. “You bet.”
“Good.” She nodded. Her fingers slid down the silk until her hands linked together on the bar. Wherever she had come from, wherever she was going, she was her own woman first. “That’s good.” Steadying herself, she took another long breath. “How do you feel about Connecticut?”
“Well, actually—” He paused to pour two glasses. “I’ve been thinking it’s time for a change of scene. I hear Connecticut’s got a lot going for it. Like fall foliage, skiing, and really sexy women.” He offered her a glass. “You figure you’ve got enough room to put me up?”
“I can just squeeze you in.” But when he started to touch his glass to hers, she shook her head. “Ten-year-old boys are noisy, demanding, and have little respect for privacy.”
“Brandon and I already have an understanding.” Comfortable, he leaned against the bar. He caught her scent, and only her scent. “He thinks my marrying his mother is a pretty good idea.”
“You mean you—”
“And,” Paul continued, “before you start worrying about me dealing with the fact that I’m not his natural father, I’ll remind you that I found my mother when I was ten.” He laid a hand over hers. “I want the package, Jules—you and the kid.” He brought her hand to his lips, pleased when she spread her fingers to caress his cheek. “Besides, he’s exactly the right age to baby-sit when we start giving him brothers and sisters.”
“Okay. The deal’s two for one.” She clicked her glass against his. “You’re getting a hell of a bargain.”
“I know.”
“So are we. Are you going to come around here and kiss me?”
“I’m thinking about it.”
“Well, think fast.” She laughed and held out her arms for him. He scooped her up and kissed her beneath the portrait of a woman who had lived with no regrets.
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