Linda Lovely - Marley Clark 02 - No Wake Zone by Linda Lovely

Hamilton’s company when he
retires.”
    “I don’t break promises.” We shook hands. “And I don’t
betray friends.”
    ***
    My head throbbed. I wished I’d followed May’s lead and taken
a nap. My trip to the mailbox killed any illusion I’d soon return to a relaxing
family vacation.
    I changed into suitable attire for my afternoon sympathy
visit—beige silk blouse, loose peasant skirt and sandals. I heard May stirring.
Naptime complete.
    I caught her pawing through her purse. “I’m almost late for
my weekly hair appointment. You can drop me by the beauty parlor and take the
car. I’ll walk home. It’s only two blocks. Ross will drive me to dinner if
you’re not back in time.”
    Newly cataract-free, May had zero problems driving in
daylight if she didn’t have a willing chauffer. Nighttime was a different
matter. Nonetheless, I declined her offer of the Buick and insisted she take
the car. The woman would never fork over money for a two-block taxi ride and I
didn’t want her schlepping home in a thunderstorm.
    She turned at her front door. “You be careful now, Marley
Clark.” She fixed me with a stern stare. “Stay long enough to be polite and
skedaddle. I expect you for dinner.”
    When it suited, Aunt May reneged on our adult relationship
and treated me like a willful child. My reaction was equally predictable. At
age fifty-two, I’d simply learned not to say the words out loud.
    I’ll do as I damn well please.

SEVEN
    “Hot diggity. Do I get to drive through the gates?”
    My destination tickled my cabbie.
    “Maybe.” I shrugged. “They’ve battened down the security
hatches to keep reporters out. I may be asked to walk in from the gate.”
    And I might get soaked.
    Ominous black clouds massed on the horizon like army troops
readying an attack. It wouldn’t be long before thunder growled its battle cry.
    As the first fat drops splashed on the windshield, a Thrasos
guard scanned an approved visitor list. He instructed the cabbie to drop me at
the mansion and return at once. He sounded like a bored automaton reading a
Monopoly card, “Go to jail. Do Not Collect $200.” Regardless, he made my
driver’s week.
    Harvey, the consummate butler, opened the carved oak door
and rumbled a greeting. “Mrs. Olsen is in the great room. She asked me to show
you right in.”
    The Mrs. title warned me—Darlene had company. Down the
corridor, strident voices echoed from the great room. My nose twitched at the
cloying aroma of the sympathy bouquets crammed in the entryway. Wonderful.
    “This is preposterous,” a loud voice asserted. “You were
married to my father less than a week. Talk about motive. This ridiculous
document will never stand up.”
    I hung back, queasy about entering the verbal melee. Harvey trudged onward. I attempted to mimic his unflappable demeanor. The volume of the
conflagration lowered. Had they heard our footsteps? Once we breached the great
room’s entry, conversation halted.
    Darlene rushed to hug me. “I’m so glad you came. Let me
introduce you. Marley Clark is a dear friend from college days. You probably
know her cousin, Captain Ross, or maybe you’ve met her aunt, May Carr—she’s a
legend at Spirit Lake’s hospital.”
    After dispensing with my pedigree, Darlene introduced the
room’s occupants, starting with daughter, Julie. Wearing raggedy jeans and a
faded University of Okoboji T-shirt, she looked like a carbon copy of her mom
at twenty—a green-eyed, blonde bombshell with attitude. On cue, she popped up
with a hundred-watt smile and a firm handshake.
    Jake’s daughter Gina came next. Lanky beige hair framed her
jaundiced face, while loose flab creased in folds around knees that
unfortunately poked beneath a too-short skirt. I knew Gina was in her early
forties. She looked older than her step-mom. When introduced, she blinked
rapidly and wheezed a tad louder. No other sign of intelligent life. It wasn’t
necessary to smell the brine to know the lady was