Connecting Rooms(19)
Author: Jayne Ann Krentz

She reacted instantly, leaping aside. Two heavy volumes struck the floor at her feet, barely missing her head.

Tredgett seized the opportunity. He burst out of the janitorial closet and made for the back door.

“You okay?” Owen asked Amy.

“I’m okay. Owen, be careful.”

He whirled around and sprinted after Tredgett, who was already at the back door.

It wasn’t much of a contest. Tredgett was twenty years older and thirty pounds overweight. Owen caught him just outside the door. He pinned the janitor to the wall of the alcove.

“I’ll tell everyone about the affair between Crabshaw and Mrs. Villantry,” Tredgett blustered. “I swear I will.”

“And go to jail for blackmail?” Owen asked pleasantly. “Now, why would you want to do that?”

“Crabshaw will never press charges. He’ll never admit that he’s been paying blackmail. You can’t prove a damn thing.”

“I wouldn’t be too certain of that.” Madeline Villantry emerged from the storage room. She was followed by Arthur and Bernice and Raymond Junior. “Arthur finally told me what was going on this morning. I informed him that if his private investigator discovered the identity of the blackmailer, I would insist that he press charges. One simply cannot tolerate this sort of thing.”

“Now, Mother,” Raymond began. “I think we should talk about this before we make any decisions.”

“There is nothing to discuss,” Madeline assured him.

Tredgett jerked furiously in Owen’s grasp. “Private investigator?” He stared at Owen and then looked helplessly at Arthur Crabshaw. “You hired this damned PI?”

“I hired the damned PI,” Amy said briskly. “And he’s solved the case brilliantly.”

“Thank you,” Owen said.

“He certainly has.” Bernice smiled warmly at Owen. “Arthur also told me everything. It was very gallant of him to try to protect Madeline and me, but entirely unnecessary. Arthur’s relationship with Madeline is thirty years in the past. Who cares about it now?”

“Precisely,” Madeline murmured. “My parents are dead and my children are adults. There is no one left to protect.”

Arthur looked at Owen. “You were right. The best way to pull the blackmailer’s teeth was to tell everyone involved what was going on.”

“It’s usually the easiest way to put a stop to this kind of thing,” Owen said.

Raymond Junior scowled in confusion. “For God’s sake, Mother, are you telling me that you and Arthur Crabshaw had an affair thirty years ago? And that the janitor knew about it?”

“Eugene Tredgett used to work for Villantry,” Madeline explained. She gave Tredgett a disgusted look. “Apparently he saw something that was none of his business.”

“No one ever notices the janitor,” Tredgett muttered.

“Good God.” Raymond looked scandalized. “I can’t believe this.”

“Don’t worry about it, Raymond.” Madeline turned to go back into the library. “It’s none of your business, either. These things sometimes happen, even in the best of families. Now, stop blathering on about it. We have our civic duty to perform this evening.”

“But, Mother . . .” Raymond hurried after Madeline. The pair vanished into the shadows.

Arthur took Bernice’s hand. He looked at Owen. “I owe you.”

“No you don’t,” Owen said. “Amy is the one who hired me. She’s already taken care of the bill.”

Shock and pain replaced the admiration that had lit Amy’s eyes a moment earlier. Too late, Owen realized that she had misinterpreted his words. She thought he meant that he had taken last night’s lovemaking as payment for services rendered.

Police Chief Hawkins lumbered out of the storage room gloom. “What the hell’s going on? Mrs. Villantry said I was needed out here.” He paused when he caught sight of Owen. “Damn. Shoulda guessed that this would involve you, Sweet. You know something? We’ve had more trouble in the forty-eight hours you’ve been in town than we’ve had in a year.”

“Just doing my civic duty, Chief.”

“Sure.” Hawkins squinted at the defeated Tredgett. “Any chance you’ll do it somewhere else in the future?”

“Count on it,” Owen said.

• • •

Owen stood on his side of the doorway that linked the two Inn rooms and watched Amy as she packed her suitcase. This was the first opportunity he’d had to speak to her in private since Eugene Tredgett had been taken into custody earlier in the evening. He’d been waiting for this moment for hours. Now that it was here, he couldn’t seem to find the right words.

Amy had been determinedly cheerful and aggressively polite while they had been in the company of others. It seemed to Owen that she had chattered on about everything under the sun except their relationship. She had finally fallen silent when they had climbed the stairs to the connecting rooms.

“Amy . . .”

“I’m almost packed,” she assured him as she stuffed a pair of jeans into the suitcase. “I know you want to be on the road first thing in the morning. We’ll be able to leave right after breakfast.”

“Forget it. I’m not worried about leaving on time.” Owen shoved his hands into his back pockets. “Amy, I want to talk to you.”

“I’m listening.” She disappeared into the bathroom to check for any items she might have left on the sink.

Irritation replaced some of Owen’s uneasiness. “I’m trying to have a relationship discussion out here,” he called.

She emerged from the bathroom with her quilted robe over her arm. “Good thing I checked the hook on the door. I almost forgot my robe.”

Owen gazed at the robe with a shattering sense of longing. “Amy, I think you misunderstood something I said tonight. When I told Crabshaw that you had paid for my services, I didn’t mean it the way I think you think I meant it.”

“Really?” She came to a halt in the middle of the room. “How did you mean it?”

“I just meant that you and I had a separate understanding.”

She stood very still, clutching her robe. “Do we?”

“I thought so.”

“What sort of ‘understanding’ do we have, Owen?”

Owen began to feel desperate. He was no good at this kind of thing. “For God’s sake, didn’t last night mean anything to you?”