He smiled. “Honey, I hope you’re thinking what I think you’re thinking. We can always put off our meeting for another hour or two.”
She jerked her gaze away, but the color returned to her cheeks. “We can’t do that. We have an appointment.” She got up from the kitchen table and headed for the door. “I’d better get dressed. With all the rain, traffic might be bad. It could take us a while to get there.”
He chuckled as she left the kitchen. Not only did he lust after this woman, he liked her. It was a rare combination.
It rained hard during the next hour, water slashing against the windows, pounding on the roof. By the time they were ready to leave, the wind had died down and there was a break in the weather, though the sky remained a dull, pewter gray.
It didn’t take long to reach the exclusive Highland Park neighborhood, which wasn’t that far away. It was exactly eleven A.M. when Beau drove the Beamer through the ornate, gilded gates of Chateau Durant.
With its mansard roof and manicured French gardens, the mansion looked as if it belonged in Versailles, not Texas.
“Plenty of room for guests,” Cassidy said sarcastically as he pulled the car around the circular drive. Beau figured twenty thousand square feet.
He parked in front of the steps leading up to a pair of massive carved front doors. “Betsy Durant is the queen of Texas society,” Beau said. “Her house is definitely fit for a queen.”
“I see her picture in theMorning Newsabout once a week. Her husband’s death didn’t seem to slow her down.”
“Betsy had all the money. Albert was her second husband. He was just along for the ride.”
A butler formally dressed in black welcomed them into a marble-floored entry lit by a crystal chandelier.
“Mrs. Reese is expecting you. If you will please follow me.” Nose in the air, he led them into an elegant salon done in ivory and gold. Charlotte waited across the room, blond hair upswept, not a wrinkle in her floor-length, navy pleated wool skirt and matching sweater.
She rose from a gold velvet Louis XIV chair next to an antique rosewood table. “I’m afraid you just missed Betsy. She had a meeting with the garden society.”
“That’s a shame,” Beau said, barely able to hide the relief in his voice. “You remember Cassidy?”
“Of course. Hello, my dear.”
“Mrs. Reese.”
The door opened again and the butler wheeled a tea cart across the inlaid parquet floor, onto the thick Persian carpet in the seating area.
“Would you like a cup of tea?” Charlotte was in her element. French nobility could live in Chateau Durant. The only problem was the house belonged to someone else.
“That would be lovely,” Cassidy said. She wore beige slacks, a cream silk blouse, a tweed jacket, and low-heeled boots. She was good at reading people, had guessed what would impress his stepmother. Cassidy looked as if she belonged in the house.
Charlotte poured and served, passing the delicate gold-rimmed porcelain cups around. Beau took a seat beside Cassidy on the gold velvet settee and worked not to fumble as he balanced the cup and saucer on his lap.
“We just have a couple of questions, Charlotte,” he said.
She sat back down in her Louis XIV chair, took a sip of tea and set the cup in its saucer. “Apparently you’re still investigating Stewart’s death.”
“That’s right,” Beau said.
“I saw you in the news. It seems your digging for clueshas managed to embroil you in yet another murder. I wish you had listened to me, Beau. Now all you have done is make matters worse.”
“Maybe. But it isn’t going to stop me from finding Dad’s killer. I came here to talk about Jess Milford. He was the foreman of Alamo.”
“That’s right. I can’t believe someone killed him. But then I still can’t believe your father is dead.”
“Why did the senator fire him?”
Charlotte looked uncomfortable. “I don’t know. He was already working for Alamo when I married Stewart. Your father convinced me to invest my savings in the company and we became partners, but Stew made the decisions. I remember him saying something about Jess slacking off, no longer doing a good job.”
“When did Dad let him go?”
“I’m not sure exactly. Sometime in late November. I remember he gave the man a month’s severance, but Jess was still angry about it.”
