Chapter Eleven
“I’M going to have it put on a brass plaque and framed,” Brad said, leaning back in his chair and smiling across the table at Eden. “ ‘Nature tamed, trained, and enclosed.’ Marvelous. Perfect. What was the other one?”
“ ‘Geometric symmetry within an enclosed space,’ ” Jared said, looking at Minnie.
“Not a word I said was original,” Eden protested, but she was pleased with Brad’s praise. She gave him a mock look of anger. “As for you, you owe me big time. An impromptu speech! On material I haven’t looked at in twenty years.”
“You were magnificent,” Brad said, looking at her in awe. “If that’s what you do off-the-cuff, I can’t imagine what you’d do if you had time to really prepare a speech. I want to hear everything that led up to that speech,” he said as the waitress gave them their drinks. “From beginning to end. All of it. How did you figure out exactly which way to slant your speech?”
Eden played with the straw in her margarita. “It was the diamonds on the woman in the first row. The one with the streaked hair.”
“Mrs. Wainwright. This is one of four houses she owns. She wants to be here because she’s heard that some formerly famous people are buying into Queen Anne.”
“Right. Rich. I stood at that podium and looked at the audience and thought, How can I sell the idea of gardens that are expensive to install and even more expensive to maintain to a bunch of people who, for the most part, couldn’t care less what was planted in front of their houses? I’m sure they’d be happy with two paper bark birches and some petunias.”
“You made it into a competition,” Jared said, taking a drink of his McTarvit single malt whiskey.
“It was an excellent idea, and, judging by the response, it’s going to work,” Minnie said, her eyes never leaving Jared.
“What I had originally planned was to try to sell them on the idea that eighteenth-century gardens were pretty and practical, but they’re not. They’re a pain in the neck. Everything is enclosed and orderly, and you can’t use a Weedwhacker anywhere.”
“You were brilliant,” Brad said in admiration.
Eden sipped her drink and basked in the praise. As soon as she’d stood before that audience of rich people she’d known that the speech she’d planned was useless. She’d meant to try to persuade them that an eighteenth-century-style garden was as easy to take care of as an American lawn with a few trees stuck in it. But when she looked at them, she remembered what McBride had said about snobs, and she’d decided to play on that snobbery. Who in their right mind today would want a garden that was going to take an army of strong young men to take care of? Gardens such as no one outside of historical parks would want? They’d be expensive to install, what with adorable little outbuildings with lead roofs, bricked pathways, and trees that Thomas Jefferson would have known. No one in their right mind would want a garden that close to being historically accurate.
When Eden had seen the eyes of her audience as she said that no one would want such a garden, she knew she was on the right track. She hadn’t been aware of it, but her fear in all this had been dealing with the clients. She didn’t relish trying to please some woman who had too much money and too much time on her hands. She didn’t want to think about trying to talk them into putting in a garden that was nothing like a modern American “yard.” Worse, she didn’t want to have to deal with them later when they found out that the gardens were only beautiful when they were well and carefully maintained.
But when she’d warned the audience that the gardens were a pain, she saw eyebrows lift. For the most part, these were people who had achieved a lot in their lives. Senators, a former governor, two CEOs, men and women who’d been everywhere and seen everything, according to what Minnie had told her just before she went onstage. Yet they’d stepped down and were, for the most part, now retired. When Eden saw by their faces that she was challenging them, in essence dropping a red flag in front of them, she continued telling them that under no circumstances should they install an eighteenth-century–style garden.
After her speech, Eden had hoped for one or two people to stop at her table, but she got a line that ran out of the door and into the next room. She was handed cards of people whose names made her blink in recognition, and she was asked to call to make a date to talk about what she could do for them.
“Dolley Madison,” one woman said. “Anything that Dolley liked, that’s what I want. Can you do that?” Eden said she’d try.
“I want something that Mount Vernon will envy,” another woman said. “Can you make me a greenhouse like the one they have?”
Eden stared at the woman. The Mount Vernon greenhouse, designed by George Washington, was magnificent—and very expensive. “I’m sure we could,” Eden managed to say.
Another woman, with skin lined by years of sun, leaned forward and whispered, “The best. That’s what I want. The best. I don’t care what it costs, I just want the best in the whole place. Can you do that?” Eden opened her mouth to say that she could, then she closed it and smiled. “Every woman here has asked for the same thing from me. What I can promise you is that you will have a garden that is different from anyone else’s on earth.”
“I guess that’ll have to do,” the woman said, obviously disappointed.
By the end of the long session, Eden had made it appear that if she designed a garden for anyone she was doing that person a favor—and she hoped she could keep up the charade. She didn’t want to be put in the position of having to argue with these people about what could and could not be put in the gardens.
Throughout her consultations Jared McBride had watched her and had continued talking on his cell phone. Twice he seemed to be arguing with someone, frowning and gesturing.
Now, at dinner, Brad said, “You were great,” then he looked at Jared and Minnie for agreement.
“The best,” Minnie said, looking at Jared adoringly.
Jared lifted his glass to Eden. “I was impressed,” he said softly, and Eden blushed with the praise.
“To Eden,” Brad said, lifting his glass.
“To the eighteenth century,” she said.
“To Queen Anne, who gave her life so others could use her name,” Jared said.
“To bringing in a profit,” Minnie said, then they all laughed, clinked glasses, and drank.
It was a lovely dinner, Eden thought as she sat in the car beside Jared. Right now, Eden couldn’t feel any anger toward him, as they’d all had such a good time. There’d been no animosity, no lightly veiled threats about who owned whom, no tension. They’d just talked and laughed all evening. There had been a heated discussion about Princess Diana’s death in which Jared had said little, which made her think he knew more than he was telling. Twice, Brad had made halfhearted attempts to get McBride to talk about his experiences as a cop before he retired and moved to Arundel, but Jared wouldn’t tell. He was good at skimming the issue and telling nothing.
It was Jared who brought up the story of the sapphires.
“That old saw?” Brad asked. “Everyone knows that old man Minton sold the necklace.”
“I thought that was a secret!” Eden gasped. “Mrs. Farrington told me that only those in her family knew the truth.”
“Yes, that’s right,” Brad said, confused. “Only the family knows.”
“The family!” Minnie said, looking like she wanted to pull her hair out. “The family. I hate the thing! Marrying into one of ‘the families’ in Arundel is like being initiated into the Mafia.”
“Being part of it got you a place to live,” Brad said calmly. Obviously, he didn’t take aspersions of the family lightly.
“Not fair,” Eden cried. “I was given a place to live when I was desperate, but I’m not part of the family.”
“I think you were,” Brad said. “Everyone knew about Mrs. Farrington’s son, so I think they looked on you as a gift from God. Your daughter became the grandchild that Mrs. Farrington was never going to have. And it worked out, since you inherited the house.”
“And the story,” Jared said. “And maybe the sapphires.”
“They were sold,” Brad said again.
Minnie had been looking at her food, thinking about what Eden had said. “Did they ever find him?” she asked softly.
Jared stopped bantering with Brad and looked at her. “Find who?”
Minnie looked up at Eden. “Did they ever find the man who, you know, gave you your daughter and made you desperate?”
Brad and Jared shifted uncomfortably in their chairs.
“They didn’t need to find him,” Eden began. “I always knew who he was. He had a stocking over his head, but I recognized his voice and the scar on his wrist. It was from a hunting accident. I used to stare at it when he passed the offering plate at church.”
That information brought them all to a standstill.
“Wait a minute,” Minnie said. “I’m confused. The story I was told, and I admit that by the time I heard it, it was old and had been through a lot of people, but I was told that you were raped, then thrown out by your horrible family. Oh! Sorry. I didn’t mean that they were—”
“They were horrible,” Eden said softly. “Truly horrible people. I didn’t like what got me away from them, but I’m glad that I was able to escape them. If I’d stayed they might have married me off to someone repulsive.”
Reaching across the table, Brad squeezed her hand. “Let’s change the subject. Tell me about the first garden you plan to design. What—?”
But Jared didn’t want to change the subject. “You know who the rapist was? I didn’t hear that he was prosecuted.”
“He wasn’t,” Eden said. “He had a wife and three kids, and he was the head deacon at our little stone church. My parents said that he was a good man and wouldn’t have done what I was saying he did. They said that I was at fault.”
“Yet another virgin birth,” Minnie said, her mouth in a line.
“He should have been prosecuted,” Brad said, his lawyer face on. “If he did it once, he’d do it again.”
Eden looked at him, unsmiling. “You grew up in a different world than I did. If you were hurt you could go to your parents and they’d help you. I was what they call now a ‘baby momma’ and I had no one.”
“Mrs. Farrington—” Brad began.
“Had her own problems,” Eden shot at him.
Brad picked up his water glass and drank.
“There were places you could have asked for help and it would have been given,” Jared said quietly, and smiled at Eden.
She knew he meant his agency. Or maybe he meant him. Smiling, she looked down at her plate. Sometimes he could be very nice.
Minnie was frowning, and when she spoke, her voice came out higher and faster than normal. “So how did we get onto this subject?” she asked as she raised her glass. “Let’s make another toast. What is your deepest, most sincere wish in the world? As for me, I want my own: my own house, my own man.” She looked up at Jared suggestively.
“To wipe the words focal point from the American vocabulary,” Eden said.
“To kiss Angelina Jolie,” Jared said, not looking at Minnie.
They all looked at Brad.
“To find the Love of my Life,” he said with a look at Eden, then they all clinked glasses, laughing, and drank.
Yes, Eden thought. Except for Minnie sometimes flashing her looks of anger, it had been a very good evening, something she hadn’t had in a long time.
“A penny,” Jared said from beside her.
“I was thinking that even though my daughter is now grown, this is the first time that I’ve not been someone’s mother since I was…” She hesitated.
“Since you were a kid yourself,” he said.
“Exactly.”
“You like this new freedom?”
“I don’t know yet. So far, I still miss making sure that she’s okay. I miss talking to her twenty times a day. I still worry that she’s going to do something that I won’t be there to see, and that she’ll need me but I won’t be there. Once a mother, et cetera.” She turned to him. “Do you have children?”
“Nope. Not that I know of.”
Eden groaned. “I guess that’s supposed to be a titillating statement, but I’ve never liked irresponsibility.”
“I never make any points with you, do I? Listen, I want to talk to you about something. That man who raped you, I could do something about him.”
“Such as? Have him killed? Or just get him put in jail? No, Mr. McBride, I’m not into revenge. Besides, he gave me a beautiful daughter.”
Glancing at her, Jared shook his head. “Okay, so no revenge. But I could do something.”
“No,” she said. “Nothing. It was a long time ago. There’s nothing that needs to be done. I assume the man has grandchildren now and lives a normal life.” When Jared started to speak, she raised her hand. “No, and I mean it. It was a long time ago and it’s over. Maybe he had something bad happen to him that day and he took his anger out on me. Maybe—”
“I can’t listen to this,” Jared said fiercely. “I don’t want to hear it. You should have—”
“Done what?” Eden said loudly. “I was seventeen years old, pregnant, and totally alone. I didn’t even know how to earn money to feed myself, much less a child. But Mrs. Farrington took me in and took care of me and my daughter. You know what? I think that man did me a favor.”
“What?”
“If I’d stayed with my parents I know they would have married me off to someone dreadful. You can’t imagine what they were like. I’ve had years to think about this, and I’m glad that there was a reason for them to throw me out. It could have gone wrong, and I could have ended up on the street, but I didn’t. I was taken in by a wonderful woman and given all the love and care I’d never had in my life.”
“Then why did you fight me?”
“What?”
“If being attacked when you were a girl turned out to be good, then why did you attack me?”
“Instinct,” she said, not liking what he was saying.
“I think that over the years you’ve told yourself some great big lies. As for not wanting revenge, what would you do if some man raped your daughter?”
“Kill him,” Eden said softly, then looked at him. “Are you feeling sorry for me?”
They were in front of her house, and he turned off the car engine. “I think maybe I’d feel sorry for anyone in the world before I gave you any sympathy. And I mean that as a compliment.”
Eden smiled at him. “Thank you.” She looked out the windshield at her old house; she didn’t want to go inside. Her beautiful house now had cut cushions and broken furniture. And, worse, it had memories of being unsafe.
“Come on,” Jared said cheerfully. “I think you’ll like what you see.”
He got out of the car, then waited for her to get out. When she was slow going up the porch stairs, he took her arm in his and pulled her up to the front door. Jared took a big new key from his pocket and unlocked the door.
“Where did that come from?” she asked, wide-eyed. “And how did you get it? You haven’t been out of my sight all day.”
He smiled at her. “I do have a few secrets of my own,” he said as he opened the door and went inside.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asked, following him. “That I have secrets? I don’t. I’m an open book. I—” She broke off because she’d entered the hall and was looking about her. The secretary was not only now standing upright, but had also been repaired. “Who—? How—? When—?”
“I made a few calls and the agency sent some people.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “You gave them permission to search my house, didn’t you?”
“Saves having to get a warrant.”
She knew she should be angry at him, but just then she saw a little camera in the corner of the ceiling. She whirled on him. “What have you done? And don’t lie to me! I want to know all of it.”
“I had some security put in, that’s all. Cameras inside and out. An alarm system. We’re hooked up with my office.”
Eden sat down on the little French couch against the wall. “Your office? You mean the FBI? I’m now directly connected to the FBI?”
“Yes,” he said, not seeming to understand her problem.
Eden looked as though she wanted to cry. “You were on the phone most of the day and I saw you get angry more than once. That this house has been fitted out with security equipment, and that lots of money has been spent on my house is important, isn’t it? Why didn’t the FBI send me away somewhere safe?” When she looked at him, he didn’t meet her eyes. “They want to use me as bait, don’t they? Like that goat with the T. rex in that movie.”
“Jurassic Park,” Jared said, looking away and avoiding her eyes. “I liked that movie. It was exciting. In my world too often really bad things happen to people, but in a movie you can make happy endings. It’s nice.” When she said nothing, he turned to look at her, then gave a sigh. “Yeah. You’re to be the bait. This guy Applegate seems to have been involved in more than we thought he was. They just decoded his computer disks, and he was taking in information as well as giving it out. He was a sort of satellite to a lot of people, but we don’t know who they were. There are no addresses, no names. He seems to have memorized most of the vital information.”
“So the only name you have is mine.”
“That’s right.”
“And your ‘office,’ as you call it, thinks that someone might come to me to find out what I know. Come here again, that is, like they came this morning. Of course you thought they were your own people because you’d arranged for them to scare me, but they turned out to be actual criminals, so now your office thinks I really do know something.”
“You really are clever, you know that?” When she didn’t smile, he sat down beside her. “Ms. Palmer…Eden, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think you know anything, and I said so today. I don’t know why Applegate swallowed your name, but it’s the only clue we have. I know I haven’t known you for very long, but in this business if you don’t learn to read people quickly, it could mean your life. I think you’re an innocent in all this, but no one else believes that. I’m sorry for this, but you’re going to have me inside the house and men on shifts outside. I don’t think you’ll ever see them, but they’ll be there. Whether we like it or not, you either know something or have something that someone wants.”
When she didn’t say anything, he stood up. “Come on, we both need sleep. Tomorrow we’ll start looking through this house to see what we can find.”
“I have to meet Brad tomorrow.”
“That’s not until the afternoon.”
“I need to research eighteenth-century gardens so I can start designing them. After I see the land, that is. And I have to get to those manuscripts from my publishing house. They have deadlines on them. And I need to call my daughter to see how she’s doing. And I—”
“Tomorrow,” Jared said. “Get a good night’s sleep, then we’ll take care of everything else, starting tomorrow. Tomorrow we’ll—” He broke off when her phone rang.
“It’s probably Brad,” she said, just to annoy him, but it wasn’t Brad. “It’s for you. It’s Minnie.”
She handed McBride the phone, then started back up the stairs, but she couldn’t help but overhear him. He didn’t say much, just answered questions with “Yeah, sure” and “I think so” and “Love to,” but his voice had lowered and was as soft as a kitten’s. Eden couldn’t control a tiny flash of jealousy that ran through her.
As she went up the stairs, her legs were heavy with fatigue and the responsibility of all that was going on around her. Tonight she’d had too much wine to be able to think clearly about anything, and that included McBride.
After he put down the phone, Jared walked up the stairs behind her. She didn’t see him flash a tiny penlight off and on three times to signal the people outside. And an hour later when she was in bed, she slept so soundly that she didn’t hear the footsteps in the attic above her head. All the records she’d filed so many years ago, all the Farrington furniture and mementos of the family that hadn’t been sold, were being gone through slowly and carefully.