Читать книгу: «The Secrets of Stoneley»

“I need to find this man.”

Juliet watched Brandon examine the picture, look at her and then back at the images in the photo. “Is this your mother?”

“Yes. That was taken before I was born.”

“Wow, you do look a lot like her. And the man is…”

Refocusing her attention on the picture, Juliet said, “That’s what I need to find out.”

Brandon’s gaze searched her face. “Why?”

She chewed on her bottom lip as she debated telling him the whole sordid truth. Having a friend to confide in and help her process what she knew sounded wonderful.

But was Brandon that person? Could she trust him completely?

“I want to find this man to see if he knows anything about her disappearance and-” her voice caught “-and what exactly his relationship was to my married mother.”

THE SECRETS OF STONELEY: Six sisters face murder, mayhem and mystery while unraveling the past.

FATAL IMAGE—Lenora Worth (LIS#38)

LITTLE GIRL LOST—Shirlee McCoy (LIS#40)

BELOVED ENEMY—Terri Reed (LIS#44)

THE SOUND OF SECRETS—Irene Brand (LIS#48)

DEADLY PAYOFF–Valerie Hansen (LIS#52)

WHERE TRUTH LIES–Lynn Bulock (LIS#56)

MILLS & BOON

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TERRI REED

grew up in a small town nestled in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada. To entertain herself, she created stories in her head, and when she put those stories to paper her teachers in grade school, high school and college encouraged her imagination. Living in Italy as an exchange student whetted her appetite for travel, and modeling in New York, Chicago and San Francisco gave her a love for the big city, as well. She has also coached gymnastics and taught in a preschool. She enjoys walks on the beach, hikes in the mountains and exploring cities. From a young age she attended church, but it wasn’t until her thirties that she really understood the meaning of a faith-filled life. Now living in Portland, Oregon, with her college-sweetheart husband, two wonderful children, a rambunctious Australian shepherd and a fat guinea pig, she feels blessed to be able to share her stories and her faith with the world. She loves to hear from readers at P.O. Box 19555, Portland, OR 97280.

Terri Reed
Beloved Enemy

Special thanks and acknowledgment are given to Terri Reed for her contribution to THE SECRETS OF STONELEY miniseries.

Many thanks to my fellow Stoneley authors: Lenora, Shirlee, Irene, Val and Lynn. You made this fun!

Special thanks to Diane Dietz and everyone at Steeple Hill Books for giving me Juliet and Brandon to play with. I enjoyed them.

Beloved, let us love one another, for love is of God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God.

—1 John 4:7

Thou art thy mother’s glass, and she in thee

Calls back the lovely April of her prime.

—William Shakespeare

“Sonnet 3,” lines 10–11

CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

ONE

Juliet Blanchard adjusted the dress on the fidgety model, making sure all the angles and lines were shown to the best advantage before shooing the girl out onto the runway set up in the middle of the convention center. Thankfully, the mild Vermont fall weather was drawing in a big crowd for tonight’s event.

Blowing a wisp of blond hair out of her eyes and taking a place near the stage behind the curtain, Juliet watched the crowd’s reaction with pleasure. This was her last show with the Vermont State University’s Fashion Design program before graduation in January. Sitting among the crowd were design house representatives hoping to recruit the newest and brightest upcoming designers to their respective design houses.

She would not be one of those recruits.

Juliet tried to squelch the rising disappointment that threatened to choke her. She’d promised her family she’d come to work in the family business after graduation.

But someday she would strike out on her own and make a name for herself as a fashion designer.

Her attention snagged on a tall man standing at the back of the crowd. She guessed he was mid-to late twenties. His wavy, dark-blond hair was just long enough to be considered rebellious yet fashionable. And his dark eyes seemed to be staring straight at her.

She knew there was no way he could see her through the glare of the hot spotlights aimed at the stage, but still, awareness sent tingles over her arms. She’d seen this man at the last four shows. Was he with a fashion house, or the friend of a classmate?

The model returned and Juliet refocused her attention on the clothes. She couldn’t afford to let her mind become distracted by anything or anyone. Too much work lay ahead of her before she made the move to Blanchard Fabrics and too many issues with her family remained unresolved.

Backstage, she helped the model change and then carefully handed the clothing to her assistant to be put on a mannequin for the viewing after the show.

“Juliet, come on,” Giles Manfred called as he hustled his students out onstage for introductions. Juliet reluctantly went. She didn’t have anyone in the crowd cheering for her. Her five sisters were all busy with their own lives and her father wouldn’t have come, even if she’d asked.

Onstage Juliet accepted the applause for what it was: an acknowledgement of her designs. She felt gratified to know her work was well received.

A movement on the audience floor to her right caught her attention. Mr. Tall, Blond and Yummy had weaved his way through the crowd, halting at the foot of the stage steps. The cutting-edge styling of the olive-colored suit fit his broad shoulders and long, lean legs to perfection. Juliet tilted her head in silent question as his warm brown eyes studied her intently. The man inclined his head in acknowledgement.

Intrigued, Juliet smiled. What was up with this guy?

Shaking away the question, she moved down the steps. The man shifted forward. His warm hand cupped her elbow as she descended. She drew back slightly.

“Do I know you?” she asked over the din of excited voices.

With a slight pressure to her elbow, he propelled her through the throng of people to the back edge of the crowd where the noise level dropped significantly.

“No, you don’t know me. But I know who you are, Juliet. And I’m very impressed with your designs.”

The combination of his deep voice and his praise sent pleasure and pride sliding over her skin. “Thank you. Can I ask what brings you here?”

He gave her a boyish grin that set her heart pounding. “You can. And I’d love to tell you about the connections I have in Paris. But I’d like to tell you over dinner.”

Dinner? With a stranger? She could just hear her eldest sister, Miranda’s, shocked tsk echoing in her head.

“I really don’t think that would be appropriate, considering I don’t even know your name,” Juliet replied.

Mr. Tall, Blond and Yummy stuck out his hand. “Brandon De Witte.”

She shook his hand, setting off a firestorm of sparks shooting up her arm. “Juliet Blanchard. But you already know that. So, why me?”

One side of his generous mouth curved upward. “Come to dinner with me and I’ll tell you.”

She extracted her hand and shook her head, ready again to explain why that was impossible.

He held up a hand to stop her from speaking. “We’ll be in a public restaurant. What can happen?”

“People might talk,” she countered, even though the excuse sounded lame.

He made a face. “Who and to whom?”

Obviously he didn’t really know who the Blanchards were or he wouldn’t ask. She’d chosen a school far enough away from anyone remotely connected to her family that gossip very rarely reached her sisters’ or her father’s ears. Unlike when Juliet was in high school.

Back then she couldn’t make a move, no matter how innocent or rebellious, without someone informing her siblings. Being the youngest of five successful sisters, Juliet had a lot to live up to. Striving to prove herself capable in a family of overachievers kept Juliet busy most of the time.

But here was this handsome—she glanced at his ring finger and was glad to see no shiny gold band—seemingly unattached man asking to take her to dinner in a public setting. What harm could come from accepting the invitation?

And while working in Paris had to stay a dream for now, getting to know someone with connections there wasn’t a bad idea. As she’d heard her father say often, look ahead to the future if you want to accomplish anything.

“All right,” she said, deciding that tonight she’d let the untamed streak inside her rule. “Let me grab my purse.”

She hurried backstage to locate her purse and coat. On the way back out, Giles stopped her. His rotund body blocked the exit.

“Where are we off to?” her instructor asked.

“Dinner with a…friend.”

A sly gleam entered Giles’s gray eyes. “With the man I saw you talking to? Hmm. Interesting.”

Heat crept up Juliet’s neck. “It’s just dinner. Nothing romantic.”

“Right.” Giles nodded sagely.

“The show went great,” Juliet said to change the focus.

Giles clapped his hands together. “Exceptionally! Your designs specifically were touted as the best. I really wish you’d reconsider taking that job at your family’s factory. Darling, you are so much better than a factory worker.”

Juliet refrained from rolling her eyes. “I’ll be heading the marketing department.”

“Honey, you’re a designer, not some pencil pusher!”

“I have a minor in marketing, Giles,” she pointed out for the umpteenth time.

He made a scoffing sound.

She laughed. “I’ve got to run. I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Have fun,” he called out to her as she hurried back to where she’d left Mr. De Witte.

“Ready?” He held out his arm.

She linked hers through, conscious of the strong muscles beneath his sleeve. “Where are we going?”

“Do you like Italian food?”

“Love it.”

“Great. Fratelli’s right next door it is then.”

A few minutes later, they were seated by a large plate glass window overlooking Lake Champlain. The moon hung low in the clear fall night sky and cast a luminescent glow across the water’s surface. Twinkling lights marked the homes along the shoreline.

A waiter approached, took their orders and left. In the background above the soft clinking of dinnerware and low conversations, the music of Vivaldi played.

Juliet twirled the mineral water in her goblet. “Are you a local?”

“No. I’m in town to study a few companies that I’m interested in.”

“Companies? What do you do?” She took a sip of the water.

“I find companies that are struggling and either buy them or revitalize them.”

“Ah, a corporate raider.”

He gave a careless shrug. “That’s a misnomer.”

“So you said you’d tell me what brought you to our fashion show. And about your connections in Paris.”

“Your designs brought me to the show.”

She blinked, flattered. “How did you—”

“I saw the spread in the Vermont News about the school and the show listings.”

The article that had appeared at the beginning of the fall term had featured two of her earlier pieces as well as a picture of the graduating class. Her father had been less than pleased. He didn’t like having the Blanchard name bandied about in such a way. His reaction still stung.

“I have a strong contact in the House of Roan in Paris. I would be more than willing to introduce you. You have heard of Roan, haven’t you?” he asked.

“Of course. Who hasn’t? He’s only the leading, most over-the-top designer in the world.” Even the suggestion that she could set a foot in the House of Roan would be beyond her wildest imaginations.

“You would love working in Paris,” he continued. “The Seine and the Louvre. The cafés and the history.”

She stifled a sigh. Her dream of one day living and working in the City of Lights would have to wait until she fulfilled her promise to her family. She didn’t want to let herself entertain the crazy thought of designing for Roan. Better to face her reality and be content than set herself up for disappointment. “That is so kind of you to offer. What do you get out of it?”

“Wow. You don’t pull any punches, do you?”

He didn’t look offended, which she found refreshing. Too often people didn’t take well to the direct approach. Her family surely didn’t. She’d learned to filter her thoughts growing up. But in the real world, she found straightforwardness more effective. “I have to wonder why the interest. You seem to be a man who wouldn’t offer to help for purely altruistic purposes.”

He placed a hand over his heart. “You wound me.”

The twinkle in his eye contradicted his words.

“I think not,” she replied with a smile.

He leaned forward, his expression turning earnest. “You have extraordinary vision. A talent that should be encouraged and fostered.”

She swallowed back the sudden lump in her throat. If only her family thought the same way. “I appreciate your confidence. Now, tell me, where did you get that fabulous suit?”

He sat back and thankfully took the hint that she wanted to change the subject. They talked fashion and finances, art and sports. When the conversation turned to faith, he’d stiffened and she had the distinct impression by the bitter tone in his voice that something dark lurked in his past that kept him from God. That made her sad. Her own past was fraught with drama and heartache, but her faith had been the anchor in her life.

“Where did you grow up?” she asked.

“In Bangor.”

“Are your parents still there?”

A sorrowful look entered his eyes. “No. My parents died in a car accident many years ago.”

“I’m so sorry.”

He quickly veered the conversation to other topics including her family and the factory. He asked question after question about her life in Stoneley, about her siblings and her father. She actually enjoyed regaling him with stories of her more colorful exploits as a child and a teen. She was amazed to discover the time passing without the awkward silences that usually transpired on dates.

But this wasn’t a traditional date, she reminded herself later that evening when he walked her to her car. “Thank you, Brandon. I really had a nice time,” she said as she opened the driver’s side door.

And she had. More so than she had in a very long time. She liked this man. Too bad she didn’t have room in her life at the moment for a relationship.

“I did, too. You’re a very interesting woman. And I hope you will let me know if I can set you up with my contact in Paris. I know the House of Roan would flip to have someone of your caliber.” He pulled a card from the inside pocket of his suit jacket. “Here’s my card. Call me if you decide to take me up on my offer.”

Beneath the warm glow of the parking lot light, she studied the card. His name and a number were the only information printed in black lettering on the pale blue face.

“Juliet?”

She lifted her gaze and her breath stalled somewhere between her heart and her throat. The way he was looking at her, as if he were memorizing every curve and line of her face, was as intoxicating as if he were touching her. She swallowed. Her whole being tingled with anticipation and a powerful yearning she felt helpless against.

His head dipped until his lips hovered over hers, waiting, inviting. His hesitation was so sweet and so alluring. He was making it clear he wouldn’t proceed without her permission.

Why not? What harm could come from one kiss?

Standing on tiptoe, she closed the distance. Their lips touched. His were firm, yet molding to hers effortlessly. A delicious sensation coursed over her, melting her bones and turning her to mush.

Sure that at any moment her legs would give out, she clasped his arms. His big, strong hands closed around her and slowly eased her back. He gentled the kiss and slid his mouth across her jaw to just below her ear.

“Good night, Juliet,” he whispered as he disengaged from her, steadying her. “‘Parting is such sweet sorrow.’” He smiled then turned to leave.

Leaning against the car with a dreamy sigh, she watched him walk away. She bit her lip to keep from calling him back. She wasn’t ready for him to leave, but she knew she couldn’t ask him to stay. Yes, he’d made her feel special, and yes, she was attracted to him, but both were temporary.

She had a goal, a focus, and it certainly didn’t include a romance. Proving herself capable had to stay her priority.

And no matter what, she would ignore the wistful voice in her head that hoped she’d see Brandon De Witte again one day.

Talk about a dark and stormy night, Juliet thought as she pulled up to the ornate iron gate of Blanchard Manor. Perched high on the cliffs overlooking the Atlantic Ocean just outside of Stoneley, Maine, the huge, ominous house seemed to have been built for nights such as this. She lowered the window and leaned out of her orange Honda Element to reach the security keypad.

A blast of icy March wind and sleet hit her face, stinging her eyes and whipping her hair in a frenzied dance. Her gloved hands fumbled on the pad. With a frustrated yank, she ripped off her right glove and tried again. While fighting against the stiffness the cold air caused in her fingers, she finally managed to punch in her code to release the gate.

Shivering, she powered the window up and waited for the slow-moving hunk of metal to get out of the way. Before the gate was fully opened, she sped through the gap, her tires spinning slightly on the slick agate pavement.

The long, winding drive up the hill usually provided a lush and beautiful view of the gardens through the trees. On clear days, glimpses of the ocean beyond the cliffs were breathtaking.

However, on this cold winter night, all Juliet could see were the looming shadows of the trees and the large stone manor house rising up ahead like some unearthly specter waiting for its next victim.

She swallowed back the trepidation that had been looming over her for months now, ever since Leo Santiago had given her sister Bianca the picture of their late mother, dated after her death. That one act had set in motion a series of devastating events.

Bianca was convinced their mother, who supposedly died not long after Juliet was born, was really alive. Bianca had hired a private investigator to track Mother down, but he had died under suspicious circumstances. Juliet shivered even though the heat in the car was cranked on high. Inside the house her sisters waited for her with more information that they’d uncovered.

Juliet wasn’t sure she wanted to know. Part of her was scared to let her hopes rise, because if their mother was alive, then the question became why did she abandon them?

A secret guilt lived deep inside of Juliet’s soul. She knew that their mother disappeared because of her. If she hadn’t been born, then Trudy Blanchard wouldn’t have slid into postpartum depression and left.

Juliet pulled around the circular drive to the garages on the side of the manor. Popping open the glove box, she hit the button on the little black garage opener tucked inside the compartment. The third door of the six garages slid upward. Juliet pulled in behind her sister Portia’s vintage VW Bug. Her father’s Jaguar and the two black Town Cars were in their customary places.

The parking spots where Bianca’s silver sports car and Rissa’s dark blue Porsche were usually parked when the girls came home were conspicuously empty. They’d probably taken commuter flights instead of driving in because of the weather.

Bianca lived and worked in Boston and Rissa resided in Manhattan. Both women were successful in their chosen fields; Bianca was a trial lawyer and Rissa a playwright. Portia was successful, as well, with her arts-and-crafts shop. And Miranda, who still lived at the manor, wrote poetry and produced unique, handmade books. Juliet’s other sister, Delia, had gone off to college in Hawaii and only occasionally returned. Delia owned and operated a surf shop on the beach.

At twenty-three, Juliet was the only one without a career. This was why her family pressured her to agree to work at Blanchard Fabrics. At least she’d have some work experience to put on a résumé, her sister Bianca had stated as a way to mollify her reluctance.

But the reason Juliet committed to the promise was because it had seemed important to their father, a cold and distant man whose love and approval Juliet coveted, but hadn’t yet obtained.

She hoped by being the one daughter to actually work in the company, her father might finally see her capabilities and show her some respect. And for once she’d have some of his undivided attention by working with him at the factory. So she’d put her own newly found dream of fashion design on hold and had come home.

The garage door rumbled shut behind the car as Juliet grabbed her bags. She’d already had the rest of her personal belongings shipped home. She assumed the housekeeper, Sonya Garcia, would have had everything unpacked and put away by now. Sonya kept a very tidy house and was very strict with the girls. Juliet had a small trinket tucked away in her bag for Sonya, as well as one for Juliet’s spinster aunt, Winnie.

Juliet paused at the door leading into the house. Once she walked in through that door, there would be no going back. She would be fully committed to her promise to start working at Blanchard Fabrics and being embroiled in whatever new drama unfolded concerning their mother.

And their father.

TWO

Juliet took a moment to still her thoughts, praying out loud, “Lord, You are in control and I trust You. Bless me with Your presence and let Your will be done in my life.”

On a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped into the mudroom, though she doubted the tiled floor and porcelain sink had seen much mud since she’d left home at seventeen. She smiled to see her fuzzy tiger-print slippers waiting for her by the door that would take her into the hall of the main floor.

Kicking off her big, clunky boots, she slipped her feet into her slippers and then shuffled into the body of the house. She passed through the stainless steel, state-of-the-art kitchen where the chef and his assistant were busy preparing the evening meal. The smells of spices and savory roasted meat teased her senses and she dropped her bags to see what samples she could snag.

“Ah, Miss Juliet, you are home,” the chef, Andre, boomed before wrapping her in a quick bear hug. Andre had been with the Blanchards for more than a decade and had overseen the remodel that had updated the kitchen.

“What are we having tonight?” she asked, peering into the simmering pots.

“Lamb, herbed rice, winter vegetables and fresh bread,” Andre replied as he resumed his culinary work.

Marco, the newest assistant in a long line of assistants, waved Juliet over. He’d befriended Juliet months earlier when he’d discovered her weakness for desserts. He uncovered a tray piled high with powdered squares. “Lemon bars,” he said and nodded with his head for her to take one.

Mouthing a silent oh, Juliet snagged one from the top and popped the whole square in her mouth. She closed her eyes in delight as the sweet and tart flavors burst against her taste buds. She gave Marco a thumbs-up before grabbing her bags and continuing on through the house.

Every time Juliet came home she was struck by the majesty and castlelike interior of the huge stone mansion, especially the foyer. Dark and forbidding, like some medieval fortress. The huge, round mahogany table, decorated with a large, sparkling crystal vase full of brightly colored, specially grown flowers, sat center stage.

But it was the sweeping walnut staircase that brought a smile to Juliet’s lips as she remembered sliding down the wide, ornate banisters. She and her sister Delia would have such fun zooming down and then racing up the stairs. Their father had hated when they acted like tomboys. Juliet had learned to wait until her father left the house before having her fun.

Now Juliet vaulted, as best she could in her fuzzy slippers, up the stairs, eager to get to her room before facing her siblings. She could hear them gathered in the parlor to the right of the staircase. The echo of their voices followed her, pricking her conscience with guilt for not immediately saying hello to them.

She made it undetected to her bedroom. Airy and light with splashes of color, the room was a welcome relief to the darkness of the rest of the house.

She quickly unpacked and freshened up. The drive from Vermont had been long and especially tiring on such a stormy night. A quiet knock on the door made her cringe. Busted.

She opened the door to find her aunt, Winnie, standing in the hall. Her faded red hair was up in her usual chignon and her warm hazel eyes regarded Juliet with affection.

“Hi, Auntie,” Juliet said as they embraced.

“I was checking on dinner and Andre mentioned you were home.” Winnie held Juliet at arm’s length. “Why are you sneaking around? Your sisters and I have been anxiously waiting to see you.”

“I know. I just needed a moment to get settled, that’s all.” Juliet shrugged

Winnie hugged her again. “Of course, dear. I understand. Now, let’s join your sisters for a few moments before dinner is served.”

Arm in arm, Juliet and Winnie descended the stairs. At the parlor door, Juliet paused as Winnie stepped in. Love and pride for her siblings filled Juliet’s heart, replacing the earlier need for a quiet moment. Each one was dear and special. And, like herself, named after one of Shakespeare’s heroines. Juliet would do anything to make them happy.

“Juliet!” exclaimed Bianca, who rushed forward to squeeze her tightly. Bianca’s straight, dark hair brushed over her tailored suit.

“Welcome home, sis,” called Portia from where she sat on the floor near the fireplace. Beside her, Portia’s twin sister, Nerissa, whom they called Rissa for short, blew Juliet a kiss. A board game lay between the twins. Most likely to distract themselves from the storm brewing outside.

Juliet had always envied the twins’ long, dark curls and petite frames. They were exact images of each other and extremely beautiful. They had a special bond that none of the other sisters could enter into and that made Juliet feel even more the outsider.

Her eldest sister, Miranda, sat on the settee with an afghan wrapped about her shoulders. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back in a twist, emphasizing her delicate features. Her golden-brown eyes stared at Juliet with concern. “I was getting worried, with the storm and all.”

With an arm around Bianca’s waist, Juliet moved into the room. “I made it just fine, Miranda. How are you doing?”

“Better now that everyone is here,” Miranda said softly.

Juliet accepted the answer even though they all knew Miranda had dodged the real issue. For years Miranda had suffered from a mild case of agoraphobia, which kept her from moving away from the manor. And, like her other sisters, Miranda hated storms.

Winnie took a seat next to Miranda. Bianca led Juliet to the second settee that faced the other two ladies. Portia and Rissa abandoned their game to move closer.

“I wish Delia were here,” Juliet said softly. She could see the same sentiment in the eyes of each sister. Thankfully last month, Delia, short for Cordelia, had come home for the Winter Festival, an annual event that none of the girls would ever miss. But Delia’s absence now left the circle of sisters incomplete.

“We’ll call her later,” Bianca stated in her brisk way and patted Juliet’s hand.

Grateful to the sister who had stepped in to be her mentor and protector, Juliet gave Bianca a smile. For a moment all the women sat in silence, and Juliet wondered if they, too, were reluctant to talk about their mother.

Growing up in this house, the girls were all forbidden to breathe their mother’s name, let alone ask questions of their father about her. Only Aunt Winnie kept their mother alive in their hearts with stories of her, unbeknownst to their father.

That same oppressive silence threatened to keep them all from speaking now.

Forging ahead to get the inevitable over with, Juliet said, “So. From the last conversation we had on the phone, I take it there is more news.”

“Portia, why don’t you fill Juliet in,” Bianca said.

Portia nodded. “Mick uncovered paperwork that shows when Grandfather retired from the company and named Father CEO, Father, in turn, named all of us as heirs to his majority stock shares.”

Juliet let the meaning of Portia’s words sink in. “Me, too?”

Portia’s dark eyebrows drew together. “Of course, you, too. All of us would have equal share in the company.”

For Juliet, this news was welcome. That their father would include her with the others as his heirs said at least he didn’t hate her. She wouldn’t go so far as to say he loved her. Ronald Blanchard wasn’t big on affectionate demonstrations, at least with his daughters, Juliet in particular.

For some reason, one Juliet suspected she knew, Ronald kept a physical as well as emotional distance from his youngest child. Juliet assumed it was because, unlike the other girls, her looks favored their mother. She was the oddball and always felt a bit out of place among the other dark-haired, dark-eyed girls.

“That’s great.” Juliet turned her gaze to Aunt Winnie, their father’s only sibling, who sat quietly beside Miranda with her hands folded primly in her lap. The exact details of the news struck Juliet. “But what about Aunt Winnie? Why wouldn’t she be included? That stinks.”

Winnie looked up, affection for her niece shining bright in her hazel eyes. “I’m sure Father and Ronald know what’s best.”

Juliet exchanged a glance with Portia, who rolled her eyes at her aunt’s statement.

Rissa spoke up. “I wouldn’t be too sure of that. Not after what we found out about how Grandfather took ownership of the factory.”

All the girls nodded in agreement. It had been a blow to learn that their grandfather hadn’t built Blanchard Fabrics from the ground up as they’d all been told. Howard Blanchard had used some less than ethical tactics to acquire the factory from a man named Lester Connolly.

Grandfather and Lester Connolly apparently once loved the same woman, who chose Lester over Howard. In retaliation, Howard went after the man’s company. The whole ordeal was much too sordid and embarrassing to think about. Especially now with Grandfather’s Alzheimer’s advancing so rapidly.

Juliet suppressed a shudder. She prayed that neither she nor her sisters would be afflicted with the dreaded disease in the future. It was so hard watching a vibrant man decline.

Juliet turned her gaze to Bianca. “Is there anything we can do to include Aunt Winnie?”

Bianca frowned. “I don’t know. I’ll have to check into it.”

“You’d better tell her the rest,” Mirada prodded.

Bianca gave her hand a squeeze. “There’s more.” She looked to Portia. “Portia?”

Juliet braced herself as she turned her attention back to Portia.

Portia’s dark eyes were filled with an intensity that made the hair at Juliet’s nape stand on end. “Mick also recently discovered a document with our mother’s signature on it. The paper was dated a year after her supposed death and gave Father full custodial rights to all of us.”

A sharp thudding started behind Juliet’s left temple. She tried to rein in the anxious flutter of dread that took flight in her stomach. “First that picture dated after Mother’s death and now a document dated after her death? How can this be?”

“Apparently Daddy lied to us,” Miranda stated, her complexion going even paler.

“Apparently,” Juliet repeated dryly. Of Bianca, she asked, “Have you authenticated the document?”

Bianca nodded. “It’s legal. Assuming it’s our mother’s signature,” she added. “We’ve sent it to a lab that specializes in verifying signatures. We should know soon.”

“It might not be her signature, right? Just like the photo Leo gave you. The date could be wrong. Both could be some kind of sick joke or a mistake.”

Juliet saw the flash of hurt in Bianca’s eyes. Leo Santiago and Bianca were dating now, even though Leo had been working for their father with orders to bring Bianca into the family business. He’d quit working for Ronald because he didn’t like being manipulated, especially since he fell in love with Bianca. He’d even moved to Boston to be near Bianca.

“I’m sorry, Bianca. I can’t help being skeptical about the date written on the back of the photo. That could have been written at any time by anyone. Just because the date is after Mother’s death, doesn’t prove she’s alive. Neither does this latest piece of ‘evidence.’”

“You know I discovered that Mother may have been at the sanitarium in Chicago,” Bianca said grimly.

Juliet cringed. “I know nothing of the sort. You didn’t find her. All you found were more questions, more dead ends and nothing but false hope.”

Rissa jumped to her feet. “Juliet, how can you be so mean?”

Portia rose, as well. “Come on, Juliet, you have to see that things don’t add up.”

Juliet shook her head. “I’m not trying to be mean, Rissa. And you’re right, Portia, things don’t add up.” She shifted her gaze to Bianca, hating the tears she saw shimmering in her eyes. “I just don’t want more pain. For any of us.”

It had been agonizing growing up under the dark cloud of their mother’s abandonment and death. To be stirring up the old fears and hurts now couldn’t be good for any of them.

In a steady voice, Bianca stated, “I’m sure in my heart that our mother is alive and I plan to keep trying to find her.”

And she would keep at it, Juliet had no doubts. “But at what cost?”

She could see that Bianca understood her meaning. Emotionally this quest would have a high price tag.

Aunt Winnie pleaded, “Girls, really, you shouldn’t fight.”

“We’re not fighting, Auntie,” Juliet reassured her. To her sisters, she asked, “Have any of you talked to Father about the document?”

Portia sat on the arm of the settee. “No. He’s still off in Europe with what’s-her-face.”

Rissa began to pace. “Oh, don’t get me started on that tickle-brained baggage. Let me tell you—”

Juliet suppressed a giggle at Rissa’s use of a Shakespearean insult.

“I hate this,” Miranda blurted out. “Families shouldn’t be like this.”

Juliet didn’t know what a normal family was supposed to feel like.

Aunt Winnie put an arm around Miranda. “Don’t upset yourself, dear. It’s not good for you.”

Rissa whirled around to face her sisters. “I sometimes feel like I’m stuck in a bad soap opera.”

A smiled tugged at Juliet’s mouth. Leave it to the artsy playwright, Rissa, to put things in perspective. The situation was a bit melodramatic. But for now it was their reality. “We have each other, don’t we?”

“Of course we do,” Bianca agreed. The others all nodded.

“Then we stick together,” Juliet stated firmly. “If you need to pursue looking for Mother, then we all do.”

Bianca gave her a grateful smile. “I want to start with the night Mother died. We all heard the raised voices. I want to know what that was about.”

Tightness pulled at Juliet’s chest. She’d been only a baby that night. She had no memories of her mother at all, not even the sound of her raised voice, to cling to.

Rissa snorted. “Only Father can tell us, and you know he wouldn’t, even if he were home.”

“What about Grandfather? Would he know anything?” Juliet asked.

Portia shrugged. “I’ll ask him. But he’s not doing so well these days.”

Portia and their grandfather had always had a good relationship. Juliet had even less of a relationship with her grandfather than she did with her father. Not that long ago, at Aunt Winnie’s sixtieth birthday party, Grandfather had nearly attacked Juliet because he’d thought she was her mother. This only supported Juliet’s theory that the Blanchard men kept Juliet at an emotional distance because she looked too much like her mother.

Judging from the few pictures Aunt Winnie had been able to tuck away of Trudy Blanchard, Juliet could easily have passed as Trudy’s sister. They both had the same long, platinum-blond hair and green eyes.

“Well, I can snoop around the company and Father’s office to see if I can find out anything,” Juliet offered.

“No!” Portia exclaimed.

“You shouldn’t,” Miranda said, her eyes wide with worry.

Bianca shook her head. “You concentrate on your new job. Let us do the investigating.”

Not telling them what to do with their patronizing and overbearing protectiveness took every ounce of self-control Juliet possessed. They were her sisters and they loved her, this she knew, but sometimes…being the baby stank.

“Whoa. Wait a sec.” Juliet stood. “You all just agreed that we’re in this together. And I’ll do my part. Looking in the factory for some answers makes sense.”

Bianca rose, as well. “Honey, please. None of us want to see you do anything to jeopardize your new career.”

A career Juliet didn’t want. She bit her tongue. This job was an opportunity to prove herself to them. But that didn’t mean she would become a pliable puppet. “I’ll do what I’m going to do.”

“We all just worry about you, Juliet. You’re our baby sister. We want you to make something of your life,” Rissa explained.

Juliet’s teeth clenched at the reminder of exactly how they all saw her—as some wayward child without any prospects. Granted, she hadn’t applied herself in high school and barely managed to squeak by. Her first few quarters of college weren’t much better.

But she’d decided it was time to make evident her capabilities. She’d applied herself to school after a few romps around Europe. Now she’d graduated with a degree and a job prospect that they and their father approved of. She’d show them.

Aunt Winnie stood. “Enough of this for now, girls. Let’s have a nice dinner and enjoy the rest of our time together before the twins and Bianca have to leave.”

Miranda rose and adjusted the skirt of the matronly dress she wore. “You’re right, Aunt Winnie. We’re being boorish with all this bickering. I want to hear about Rissa’s new play.”

Taking the cue, the girls filed out of the parlor. Juliet and Bianca were the last to leave the room.

“Juliet, promise me you won’t do anything that would get you in trouble with Father,” Bianca said.

“I’ll only get in trouble if I get caught,” Juliet quipped, reciting her childhood motto.

Growing up under the oppressive decorum of the Blanchard name, Juliet had tried to conform, but there were times when she had to let her true impulsive nature loose. Which only distressed her siblings. All but Delia, who was even more reckless in some ways.

At Bianca’s pained grimace, Juliet hugged her. “Don’t worry, sis. I’ll make you proud. Believe me, I don’t want to do anything that would give Father a reason to fire me. I know this opportunity will be good for me.”

“I think it says a lot that he’s giving you the marketing director position. Father was very pleased with your grades last term.”

For the first time in Juliet’s life, her father seemed proud of her. She’d worked hard to earn those As. And it was gratifying to know he’d noticed. “It stinks that he won’t be there to greet me on my first day at the company.”

Bianca sighed. “I know. I’m sorry for that.”

Juliet made a dismissing noise. “Not your fault.”

“But still…”

Juliet wished she could ease her sister’s grim expression. Dear Bianca took it upon herself to make sure Juliet was okay. Just as she had Juliet’s whole life.

Juliet gave her older sister another quick hug. “I love you, sis. And I thank God for you every day.”

“And I, you,” Bianca responded with a smile.

As they crossed the hall toward the dining room, Juliet linked her arm through Bianca’s. “So, tell me how you and Leo are doing.”

Bianca blushed. “Well. Very well.”

Happy for her sister, Juliet let her mind wander to a certain man whom she’d had a hard time forgetting. She wondered where Brandon De Witte was. And with whom.

She chided herself for such thoughts. Brandon didn’t matter. Couldn’t matter. He was a pleasant memory that would eventually fade.

Juliet had more important concerns, such as her first day at the company looming ahead and finding some way to help in the search for their mother.

THREE

Monday morning arrived, with an overcast sky left behind by the weekend’s storm. A chill hung in the manor house as Juliet made her way downstairs for some coffee before heading to Blanchard Fabrics. She wished Bianca and the twins hadn’t had to leave yesterday not long after church. Miranda had spent most of the afternoon in her rooms, which left Juliet rambling around with nothing to do. So she’d spent most of the day rummaging through their father’s home office. Unfortunately, she didn’t find anything of interest.

To help keep her nervousness about her new job from overwhelming her, she contemplated how she’d grab a moment when she could sneak into her father’s office and see what she could learn that might help her sisters in their quest to locate their mother.

“Miss Juliet,” Marco said as Juliet entered the kitchen. As always, his white uniform was pressed and clean. His dark Latin eyes twinkled with good humor. “Fresh coffee and some pecan sticky buns.”

“Yum,” Juliet replied with a grin and accepted the travel mug of hot liquid and a wrapped pastry. “Thank you. What a wonderful way to start the day.”

“I’ll be making apple crisp for tonight.” Marco hurried forward to help her slip on the heavy parka over her pink chenille sweater and long, flowered, ruffled skirt.

“I’m going to gain weight living here,” Juliet complained with a smile and wave goodbye.

The drive to Blanchard Fabrics took all of ten minutes. In good weather, Juliet vowed she’d walk, if only to work off the sweets that she couldn’t resist. She parked in her father’s parking space since he wouldn’t be in. The big, imposing redbrick building with its many smokestacks loomed against the gray clouds.

Juliet entered the building through the glass double doors and shivered at the blast of warm air from the overhead heaters. She slipped off her parka and approached the reception desk.

The unfamiliar woman sitting behind the counter smiled politely at her. “Can I help you?”

Leaning on the counter, Juliet smiled back. “Juliet Blanchard. I’m supposed to report to Barbara Sanchez.”

“Ah, yes.” She nodded. “Ms. Sanchez is expecting you. Her office is on the fourth floor, just down the hall from your father’s.”

“Great, thanks,” Juliet replied and hurried to catch the elevator.

The fourth floor looked nothing like what Juliet remembered from her childhood. Her sister Miranda had mentioned that their father had remodeled the offices a few years ago. The linoleum and old-fashioned cubicle dividers that once made up the office spaces had been replaced with lush, sage-green carpet and real wood office walls.

As Juliet proceeded down the hall, she passed a conference room with a long table surrounded by over a dozen padded leather chairs.

She paused at her father’s office. The door was closed. She tried the handle. Locked.

“Juliet?”

Her heart jumping in her chest, Juliet spun around to face the woman who’d come up behind her. Her father’s longtime executive assistant, Barbara Sanchez, regarded her with interest. Barbara was tall and slightly overweight, but she dressed in very upscale corporate attire that accentuated her olive skin and shiny black hair. “Barbara, hi. I assume Father gave you the lowdown on what I’m to be doing here.”

“Yes, of course,” Barbara replied, giving her a quizzical look. “Did you need something in your father’s office?”

Juliet mentally scrambled. She did want in there to poke around and see if she could find anything about her mother, but telling Barbara as much probably wasn’t a good idea. Barbara was very loyal to Juliet’s father. Probably not someone she could rely on as an ally. “I was thinking maybe his itinerary would be on his desk. Do you know when my father is expected back from Europe?”

Barbara’s nostrils flared slightly as displeasure entered her ebony eyes. “No. Your father has not kept a very reliable schedule ever since he took up with that woman.”

Interesting. So, Barbara didn’t think very highly of Juliet’s father’s newest girlfriend. Juliet wondered if she’d liked any of the women who’d come parading through Ronald’s life. “I’ve only met Alannah twice. She seems a bit…flamboyant for Father.”

Barbara’s lip curled. “More like money hungry.”

Great. One more problem for her and her sisters to face. “Should we be worried?”

Barbara waved off the concern. “Oh, please. Ronald’s just indulging in a little midlife philandering. He’ll come around eventually.”

“I’ll pray that he does,” Juliet murmured, hating that her father was so cavalier with his soul. Didn’t he realize the mess he was making of everyone’s lives with his womanizing? She wondered if Barbara had a personal interest in Ronald Blanchard. And Juliet didn’t know what to feel about that.

“Come, let me show you where you’ll be working,” Barbara said and headed down the hall away from Ronald’s office.

Juliet followed along, peering in the other offices as she went. She waved when she recognized several of the long-term employees, mainly the ones in the sales department who had attended various functions over the years at Blanchard Manor.

Barbara stopped at a small office with a tiny, square window up high on the plain beige wall. There was a bare desk, a filing cabinet and a couple of shelves.

“Here you go,” Barbara announced.

Juliet frowned. She’d have thought the marketing director’s office would at least have a view. She stepped inside and put her purse on the desk. “So, when do I meet the staff and find out what we’re currently working on?”

“There will be a staff meeting in ten minutes in the conference room. You’ll see everyone then.” Barbara gave her an indulgent smile. “Take a few minutes to settle in and look around. I’m sure you’re anxious to meet your new boss.”

Juliet cocked her head to one side. “I won’t be reporting directly to my father?”

“Oh, mercy, no. Your father has little to do with the day-to-day operations anymore. Especially now that he’s off gallivanting with that woman.”

“Right.” Of course there’d be someone else in charge while her father was away. Leo used to be that person, but now that he was gone…Juliet could only hope she’d get along with the person in charge.

“We’ll see you in ten minutes,” Barbara stated before disappearing out of the office.

Juliet sat at the desk and looked through the drawers. All the basic supplies. Bored, she drummed her fingers on the wooden top. She wished she had paper and a charcoal pencil so she could sketch. Instead she tried to think of ways she could get into her father’s office.

Finally, she left her little space with pen and spiral notebook in hand and headed down the hall to the conference room she’d passed on her way to her office. A few early birds were already seated at the table.

Juliet joined them, introduced herself and asked what department each worked in and for how long. Soon others began to file in and the room filled. The seats were all taken and a few people stood along the walls.

Barbara strode to the front of the room. She welcomed everyone. “We have another new employee joining us today. Juliet, would you please stand?”

Aware of everyone’s attention, Juliet rose with a smile. She wondered who else had recently joined the company.

“This is Juliet Blanchard, Ronald’s youngest daughter. She is coming on board in the marketing department. She recently graduated from Vermont State University with a degree in design and a minor in marketing. Please, welcome Juliet.”

Finding it odd that Barbara didn’t state exactly what Juliet’s position in the marketing department would be, she fought back a wave of unease. The clapping and voices raised in greeting distracted her from Barbara’s omission.

As Juliet sank back into her seat, the honey-blond-haired woman seated beside her leaned over to whisper her welcome.

“Hi, I’m Annie Miller. I was in the same high school class as the twins.”

Juliet shook the woman’s hand and whispered back, “Nice to meet you.”

“How are your sisters?”

“Good. Rissa has a play being produced on Broadway and Portia’s arts store is thriving. They were—”

“Ladies, do you mind?”

Juliet started at the deep, familiar voice. Her gaze flew to the man who moved to stand at the head of the long conference table.

She blinked, sure she was seeing things.

But no, what she saw was real.

Brandon De Witte, looking roguishly handsome in a traditional navy business suit, was staring at her with an amused glint in his brown eyes and a secret smile on his full lips.

Stunned, all Juliet could do was stare back. Apparently her hope of seeing him again one day had come true.

But at Blanchard Fabrics?

After she’d kissed him? Definitely a shocker, not to mention the potential for embarrassment.

A lump of sinking dread hit the bottom of her stomach as something even more threatening came into focus. Brandon De Witte’s only interest was in companies that were struggling.

Was her father’s company in trouble?

Brandon watched the color drain from Juliet’s lovely face and wondered for a second if she’d pass out from shock.

He could only imagine her reaction if she knew that ruining her father’s company was his plan. An eye for an eye and all that.

He shifted his attention to the rest of the group, said what he needed to say and then dismissed them.

“Would the marketing team please stay for a moment?” he asked as the staff began to leave.

Juliet stayed in her chair, her big green eyes watching him closely. When the four marketing department members were seated around the table, he brought out the new marketing campaign that Ronald Blanchard had approved before going off to Europe.

“Wait a second.” Juliet held up a staying hand. “Where did you get this?”

“Your father,” he replied smoothly and then continued on. The campaign was simple, yet he knew it would be effective in propelling Blanchard Fabrics forward in the changing marketplace and would help raise the company’s lagging profit margin.

Brandon had come up with the idea as a way to leverage a position in the company. But he and his uncle planned to take over the company before the campaign was implemented. Brandon had heard through the business grapevine that Ronald Blanchard’s right-hand man was leaving the company, as well as the marketing director. He’d quickly abandoned his earlier plan of ingratiating himself with the Blanchards through Juliet. Instead he’d opted for the better way to bring down the company by infiltrating the inner workings.

Ronald had been impressed with his credentials and quickly hired Brandon to step into the marketing director’s position. And now that Ronald was out for a while, he’d basically left Brandon in charge. How much easier could taking down the Blanchards be?