The Ugly Duckling

  But if it was a hit list, then one of the intended victims might know something he could use. Besides, if Gardeaux wanted them dead, then Nicholas damn well wanted them alive.

  “Well?” Jamie prompted.

  “How do I get to this Medas?”

  “There are boats bringing the guests from the dock at Athens. They start leaving at eight tonight. You just show up with an invitation.”

  “And I wonder how many of Gardeaux’s men bought invitations as I did.”

  “I checked out the guests,” Conner said. “Everyone who accepted is legitimate.”

  Maybe. “Any other way to get on the island?”

  Conner shook his head. “It has a rocky coastline that’s accessible only by the one dock. Medas is postage-stamp size. You can walk around the entire island in under an hour. Besides the mansion where the party’s going to be, there’s only a few other outbuildings.”

  “And Kavinski’s security men will be guarding the dock,” Jamie said. “It doesn’t seem to be a situation Gardeaux would choose to rid himself of enemies.” He smiled. “On the other hand, Kaifer seemed an impossible target, too, and we managed it.”

  “We were lean and hungry,” Nicholas pointed out. “These days Gardeaux is a fat cat who prefers to wait outside the mouse hole for his prey. But I suppose I’ll go and check it out.”

  “I could go. Or you could send someone else.”

  “No, I’ll do it myself.”

  “Why?” Jamie’s gaze narrowed on his face. “Could it be that you’re growing restless in the wilds?”

  God, yes, he was restless. Restless and impatient and wanting this over. He was no closer to bringing Gardeaux down than he was a year ago.

  “You’re too used to walking on the edge,” Jamie said lightly. “And you’ll never be anything but lean and hungry, my lad. I admit I miss it, too, at times.” He sighed. “Unfortunately, it’s deplorably true that one can have only so many conversations.”

  “I don’t miss it. I just want Gardeaux.”

  “If you say so.”

  “I’ll need a report on all the names on the list.”

  “It’s already on the desk in your hotel room. As you’ll see, there doesn’t seem to be any common thread connecting the names.”

  No, Medas was going to be a snarl of inconsistencies and guesses and maybes.

  But the circled name on the list that Conner had mentioned might indicate something; prime prospect or prime target. Either way, she merited attention. He unfolded the paper Jamie had given him.

  The name that topped the list was both circled and underlined.

  Nell Calder.

  June 4

  Medas, Greece

  “I saw a monster, Mama,” Jill announced.

  “Did you, love?” Nell placed a white hyacinth to the left of the lilac in the Chinese vase and tilted her head appraisingly. Yes, perfect. She reached for another lilac as she glanced at Jill standing in the doorway. “Like Pete, the magic dragon?”

  Jill looked at her in disgust. “No, that’s a pretend monster, this was a real one. A man monster. With a long gray nose and eyes like this.” She formed a circle with her thumb and forefinger, and then, judging the circle too small, used her other hand to make the eyes larger. “And a humped back.”

  “Sounds like an elephant.” One more delphinium and the arrangement would be finished. “Or maybe a camel.”

  “You’re not listening to me,” Jill said. “It was a man monster and he lives in the caves.”

  “The caves?” Fear leapt through Nell. The flowers instantly forgotten, she whirled to face her daughter. “What were you doing there? You know Mr. Brenden told you that you weren’t to go into the caves. The real estate agent told him the sea rushes in, and bad tides could sweep you away.”

  “I just went in a little way.” She added virtuously, “And then Daddy called me and I came right back out.”

  “Daddy took you there?” Dammit, Richard should have watched her more closely. Didn’t he know that an island posed all sorts of dangers for a four-year-old? Nell knew she should have gone with them when they all decided to take that stroll along the beach. Richard always became distracted when he was surrounded by Brenden’s coterie. He always had to be the best, the most charming, the funniest, the cleverest in any group.

  What was she thinking? Nell wondered guiltily. Richard didn’t have to be the best; he was the best. Jill was her responsibility and she should have gone with them and taken care of her instead of hiding back here and playing with the flower arrangements for the party. “You mustn’t go into the caves. It’s not safe. That’s why Daddy called you back.”

  Jill nodded. “Because of the monster.”

  “No.” Jill was a sensitive and imaginative child, and this particular fantasy had to be nipped at the start. Nell dropped to her knees on the Aubusson rug and gently grasped Jill’s shoulders. “There was no monster. Sometimes shadows look like monsters, particularly when you’re in a spooky place. Remember when you wake in the middle of the night and think there are bogeymen under the bed? Then, when we look, there’s nothing there?”

  “There was a monster.” Jill’s lips set stubbornly. “He scared me.”

  For an instant Nell was tempted to let her continue to think the monsters existed if the idea would keep her out of the cave. But she had never lied to her daughter before and she would not start now. She would just have to never let Jill out of her sight while they were on this dratted island.

  “Shadows,” Nell repeated firmly, and for reinforcement added, “Isn’t that what Daddy said when you told him about the monster?”

  “Daddy didn’t listen. He told me to hush. He was busy talking to Mrs. Brenden.” Jill’s eyes filled with tears. “And you don’t believe me either.”

  “I do believe you, but sometimes there’s—” She couldn’t go on with Jill looking at her with those reproachful brown eyes. She gently stroked back the straight, silky brown bangs from Jill’s forehead. His China doll, Richard called her, because of her straight, short bob. But there was nothing fragile about Jill. She was sturdy and as apple-pie American as Nell could make her. “Suppose we go down to the cave tomorrow morning and you can show me this monster and we’ll chase him away.”

  “You won’t be afraid?” Jill whispered.

  “There’s nothing to fear here, baby. It’s a good place for children. The sea and the beach and this lovely house. You’ll have a wonderful time this weekend.”

  “You won’t have a good time.”

  “What?”

  Jill’s gaze held hers with an oddly mature shrewdness. “You never have a good time. Not like Daddy.”

  Never underestimate the wisdom of children, Nell thought wearily. “I’m a little shy. Just because I’m quiet doesn’t mean I’m not having a good time.” She gave her daughter a hug. “And we always have a good time together, don’t we?”

  “Sure.” Jill’s arms slid around her neck. She cuddled closer. “May I come down to the party tonight? Then you’ll have somebody to talk to.”

  Jill smelled of sea and sand and Nell’s lavender soap she had begged to use in her bath last night. Nell’s arms tightened around her for a moment before she reluctantly released her. “It’s a grown-up party. You wouldn’t like it.”

  And neither would she. She had grown accustomed to her duties as Richard’s wife and could usually fade into the background, but that would be difficult to do this weekend. A plain wren would stick out like the proverbial sore thumb among the socialites and celebrities Martin Brenden had invited to the island to meet Kavinski and dazzle him into signing with Continental Trust.

  “Then stay with me,” Jill coaxed.

  “I can’t.” She wrinkled her nose. “Daddy’s boss wouldn’t like it. This is a very important night for Daddy, and we both have to help him.” She saw her daughter’s face begin to cloud again, and said quickly, “But I’ll bring you up a tray of goodies before you go to sleep. We’ll have a picnic.”
br />   The anxiety immediately vanished. “And wine?” Jill asked eagerly. “Jean Marc’s mother lets him have a glass of wine every evening for supper. She says it’s good for him.”

  Jean Marc was the son of the housekeeper who reigned supreme in their apartment in Paris, and Nell was hearing a good deal about the rascal. “Orange juice.” To stave off an argument, she added quickly, “But if you eat all your supper, I’ll see if I can find a chocolate eclair for you.” She stood up and pulled the little girl to her feet. “Now, go run your bath while I take this flower arrangement downstairs. I’ll be back in two minutes.”

  Jill gazed solemnly at the Chinese vase and then smiled luminously. “It’s pretty, Mama. Even nicer than when they were in the garden.”

  Nell didn’t agree. She always thought it was a shame to pick flowers. Nothing was more beautiful than a garden in bloom. Like the garden of the bed-and-breakfast she had painted when she was going to school at William and Mary. Mists and rich colors and all the textures of morning …

  She felt a sharp pang and quickly shied away from the memory. She had no reason to pity herself. Richard had never denigrated her paintings as her parents had done. After they were married, he had even encouraged her to continue with her work. She just had no time. Being the wife of an ambitious young executive seemed to occupy every hour of the day.

  She made a face at the vase as she picked it up. If she had not been forced to spend all afternoon doing Sally Brenden’s flower arrangements, she could have sketched that beautiful shoreline. But that would have meant going with the Brendens and Richard for that walk along the beach. She would have had to smile and chat and bear Sally being gracious to her. Sally’s subtle tyrannies were a welcome alternative to her company.

  Nell brushed her lips across Jill’s brow. “Lay out your pajamas and don’t go near the balcony.”

  “You’ve already told me that,” Jill said with dignity.

  “I told you not to go into the cave too.”

  “That’s different.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  Jill started toward the bathroom. “Caves are neat. I don’t like balconies. I get dizzy looking down at the rocks.”

  Thank heaven for small mercies. She couldn’t believe Sally had given them, a couple with a small child, a suite with a balcony overlooking that rocky shore. Yes, she could believe it. Richard had told Sally years before that he loved the view from a balcony, and Sally always tried to please him. Everyone tried to please the golden boy.

  “You should see the boatload of security men Kavinski sent ahead. You’d think he was Arafat.” Richard blew into the suite like a strong breeze. He glanced at the flowers. “Pretty. You’d better get them downstairs. Sally mentioned there wasn’t a bouquet in the foyer.”

  “I just finished it.” She was making excuses again, she realized with annoyance. “I’m not a professional. She could have had someone come out to the island from Athens to do them.”

  He kissed her cheek. “But they wouldn’t be as pretty as yours. She’s always saying how lucky I am to have such an artistic wife. Be a love and hurry them down to her.” He headed for the bedroom. “I have to shower. Kavinski should be here within the hour, and Martin wants to introduce me to him over drinks.”

  “Do I have to go? I thought I’d show up just for the party.”

  Richard thought about it and then shrugged. “Not if you don’t want to. I don’t think you’ll be missed in the crowd.”

  Relief flowed through her. It was much easier to fade into the background during a party. She turned toward the door. “Jill’s running her bath. Will you keep an eye on her until I come back?”

  He smiled. “Sure.”

  He was dressed in white shorts and shirt, his brown hair rumpled and his lean cheeks flushed by the sun. He always looked wonderful in a tuxedo or a business suit, but she liked him best like this. He was more approachable, more hers.

  He made a shooing motion with his hands. “Hurry. Sally’s waiting.”

  She nodded and reluctantly left the suite.

  She heard Sally’s sharp, birdlike voice before she started down the curving marble staircase. She had always thought that tiny voice incongruous in a woman almost six feet tall and lean and sleek as a panther.

  Sally Brenden turned away from the servant she had been scolding. “There you are. It’s about time.” She took the vase away from Nell and placed it on the marble table beneath an elaborately gilded mirror. “I’d think you’d be more considerate. It’s not as if I don’t have enough to worry about. I still have to speak to that little man who’s going to shoot off the fireworks, talk to the chef, and I’m not even dressed yet. You know how important this night is to Martin. Everything has to be perfect.”

  Nell felt the heat flush her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Sally.”

  “An executive’s wife is important in advancing his career. Martin would never have become vice president if I hadn’t been there helping him. We don’t ask much of you, do we?”

  Nell had heard this self-laudatory lecture many times before. She felt a ripple of annoyance but quickly smothered it. “I’m sorry, Sally,” she repeated. “Is there anything else I can do to help?”

  Sally waved a beautifully manicured hand. “I’ve invited Madame Gueray to the party. Make sure she’s comfortable. She’s deplorably awkward in public.”

  Elise Gueray was even more shy and out of her element at a party than Nell. She didn’t mind that Sally usually gave all the misfits to her. She received a deep satisfaction from making their way easier and less painful. God knows, she’d have been passionately grateful to anyone who’d have eased her way during those first few years after she had come to Europe.

  “I don’t know why Henri Gueray ever married her.” Sally glanced at Nell with guilelessness. “Yet you so often see these powerhouse men with meek, inadequate wives.”

  A swift jab and then a turn of the knife. Nell was too accustomed to barbs to give Sally the satisfaction of reacting. “I found her very pleasant.” She turned away and moved hastily toward the staircase. “I have to get back to Jill. She has to have her bath and dinner.”

  “Really, Nell, you should get a nanny.”

  “I like taking care of her myself.”

  “But she does get in the way.” She paused. “I spoke to Richard about it this afternoon, and he agrees with me.”

  Nell went still. “Did he say that?”

  “Of course, he realizes that the higher up he moves in the company, the more duties will be expected of you. When we get back to Paris, I’ll contact the agency I used when Jonathan was a child. Simone made sure he gave me no trouble at all.”

  And Jonathan was now a thoroughly obnoxious and rebellious teenager hidden away in a boarding school in Massachusetts. “Thank you, but I’m not that busy. Perhaps when she’s a little older.”

  “If Kavinski can be persuaded to give us his foreign investments, Richard will be in line to manage them. You’ll be expected to travel with him. I think he’s quite right to break in a nanny before she becomes a necessity.” She turned away and moved toward the ballroom.

  Sally was acting as if it were already settled, Nell thought frantically. She could not give her daughter up to one of those serene-faced women she had seen walking with their charges in the park. Jill belonged to her. How could Richard even consider taking her away?

  He wouldn’t consider it. Jill was everything to her. She did everything he asked of her, but he couldn’t expect her to—

  “Don’t let the old witch bother you. She just wants to see you squirm.” Nadine Fallon was coming down the steps. “Bullies always pounce on the gentle ones. It’s the nature of the beast.”

  “Shh.” Nell glanced over her shoulder, but Sally was already gone.

  Nadine grinned. “Want me to spit in her eye for you?”

  “Yes.” She wrinkled her nose. “But somehow she’d find out and then Richard would be upset.”

  Nadine’s grin faded. “Then l
et him be upset. He should know you’re no match for her. He should be the one spitting in that barracuda’s eye.”

  “You don’t understand.”

  “No, I don’t.” She passed Nell and continued downstairs in a cloud of Opium perfume and Karl Lagerfeld chiffon—red-haired, beautiful, exotic, totally confident. “I learned a long time ago back in Brooklyn that she who doesn’t fight back gets squashed.”

  Nadine would never get squashed, Nell thought wistfully. She had fought her way from Seventh Avenue to be one of the top runway models of Paris and never lost that earthy humor and boldness. She was invited everywhere, and Nell had run into her more and more frequently of late. Richard called her “designer window dressing,” but Nell was always glad to see her.

  Nadine glanced back over her shoulder. “You look great. Lost a few pounds?”

  “Maybe.” She knew she didn’t look great. She was as plump as when Nadine had seen her last month, her slacks were rumpled, and she hadn’t had time to comb her hair since that morning. Nadine was just trying to soothe her after that malicious savaging by Sally Brenden. Why not? Size six could afford to be kind to size twelve. She felt a rush of shame at the thought. Kindness should always be valued and never looked at askance. “I have to see Richard right away. I’ll see you later at the party.”

  Nadine smiled and waved.

  Nell took the stairs two at a time and ran down the long hall. Richard wasn’t in the sitting room. She could hear him humming in the bedroom. She paused outside to steel herself and then threw open the door. “I don’t want a nanny for Jill.”

  Richard turned away from the mirror. “What?”

  “Sally said you were considering a nanny. I don’t want one. We don’t need one.”

  “Why are you upset?” He turned back to the mirror and straightened his tie. “It was just an idle discussion. It’s not good to smother children with attention. All our friends have help. A nanny is something of a status symbol.”

  “You are considering it.”

  “Not without your consent.” He put on his tuxedo jacket. “What are you wearing tonight?”