What the Lady Wants Read online

  Barbara lived in an elite condo about four blocks from Armand's house.

  Mitch swung the Mercedes into a parking space. "Birds of a feather."

  Mae got out and stared up at the building, wilting in the heat. "I'd rather die than live here."

  "Fortunately, you don't have to make that choice." Mitch came up behind her. She didn't move, so he put his hand on the small of her back to push her toward the door, enjoying the warm dampness there. When he realized how much he was enjoying it, he jerked his hand away. "No one will ever make you live in an overpriced condo."

  "Somebody tried to once." Mae walked toward the door.

  "Who?"

  "My ex-husband."

  Mitch stopped. "You were married?"

  Mae looked back over her shoulder. "It didn't last long. Four years."

  Mitch scowled, annoyed for some reason. "Four years is long. You lived with some guy for four years?"

  "Four years is not long for a marriage. Marriage is supposed to be forever. And no, he didn't open the West, if that's your next question." Mae pushed through the lobby doors.

  "I wasn't going to ask." Mitch followed her into the air-conditioned opulence, upset, wondering why he was upset. So she'd been married. Big deal. It was none of his business. "So what happened?"

  "It didn't work out."

  "Because you didn't like living in a condo?" What kind of a fool had this guy been? If she wanted to live in a tent, Mitch would have... He stopped himself. No, he wouldn't have. He was never getting married. But if he did get married, and it was to someone like Mae, he'd live in a tent if that was what it took to keep her. "You left because you didn't like the living arrangements?"

  Mae rang for the elevator. "I didn't leave. He did."

  "What a fool," Mitch said, and Mae smiled at him.

  "Thank you. That's very sweet of you."

  Mitch shrugged. "Just an observation. Nothing personal."

  The elevator stopped, and Mae put her hand on his arm. "There's just one thing I want you to know."

  Mitch tried to look understanding and supportive. "Yes?"

  "If Barbara cries, it's your turn to pat."

  "No way in hell," Mitch said and held the elevator doors open so she could pass through.

  The maid was dark, thin and irritated at being bothered. Obviously, this was a job for someone with charm, so Mitch stood back to let Mae operate.

  "We've come to see Ms. Ross." Mae smiled at her. "Please tell her Mae Sullivan is here."

  "She's not here. She's still in Barbados. She'll be back tomorrow."

  The maid started to close the door, and Mitch stuck his foot in it. So much for charm. "When tomorrow?"

  The maid glared down at his foot. "In the morning."

  Mae met Mitch's eyes. "Maybe she doesn't know about Armand." She turned back to the maid. "Do you know if she's planning on attending the memorial service for Armand Lewis tomorrow?"

  "Of course she's planning on going." The maid stared at Mae as if she thought Mae was insane. "She's the widow, isn't she?"

  "She is?" Mae's mouth dropped open. "The widow? Are you sure?"

  "Sure I'm sure." The maid moved her head from Mae to Mitch. "Now, if you don't mind, I have things to do."

  Mitch moved his foot, and she slammed the door in his face.

  "She's the widow? They're married?" Mae slumped against the wall. "He married her?"

  Mitch put his hands in his pockets and watched her deal with the blow. "When would he have had time to marry her?"

  "Last week, I guess. He was out of town all last week, but he came back on Friday to be with Stormy, and he spent Saturday and Sunday at the house with us. He was on the phone most of the time, but he was with us. And he went from us to Stormy on Monday night, and then he died."

  "And he never mentioned getting married. That is something he would have mentioned, right?"

  "Well, you'd think so." Mae swallowed. "It must have been that week he was gone." She looked up at Mitch. "If he did get married, what would that do to the will?"

  "I don't know." Mitch frowned. "It might invalidate it. She'd get something under Ohio law."

  Mae pushed herself away from the wall and turned back to the elevator. "Come on."

  Mitch trailed after her. "Where are we going now?''

  "Uncle Claud," Mae called back. "If it's about money, Uncle Claud has the answer."

  Claud Lewis's neat white frame condo on River Road

  was not ostentatious. It didn't have to be. It was sitting on the most expensive real estate in Riverbend.

  "Hello, Prescott," Mae said to the graying mini-aristocrat who opened the door. "I'm here to see my uncle. I know I didn't call, but this is urgent."

  "Very good, Miss Mae Belle." Prescott opened the door wider and nodded as they went past. "I'll tell him you've called to see him."

  "Who does he remind me of?" Mitch asked Mae when he'd left the hallway.

  "Harold. Prescott gave him a few pointers a while back when Harold decided he wanted to be a real butler. The only difference is, Prescott is always like this. Harold fades in and out."

  "You can't make a silk butler out of a leg-breaker."

  "Mr. Claud will see you now," Prescott said, appearing silently in the doorway.

  Mae shot Mitch a look. "Behave."

  Claud's welcome to Mae wasn't as effusive as Gio's had been. He simply stood behind his desk and nodded to her and said, "Hello, my dear" with all the warmth of a carp.

  He looked a lot like a carp, too: hatchet-faced, beady-eyed, lipless and remote. Mae bent over the desk to kiss him, and he inclined his head to offer his cheek without smiling. Mae's dress smoothed over her rear end as she bent, and Mitch was distracted, and when he raised his eyes from her derriere, he met Claud's.

  They looked like dry ice. Unamused dry ice.

  "This is Mitchell Peatwick, a private investigator," Mae said, and Claud stared at him, expressionless.

  Mitch suddenly had a vision of Mae as a small child, facing Gio, Armand and this carp in a lawyer's office after losing her parents. Gio and Armand were no prizes, but Claud...the poor kid.

  "Mr. Peatwick," Claud said flatly and sat down, staring at him.

  Mitch knew exactly what Newton had been talking about the night before. Given a choice between facing down Gio or Claud, he'd pick Gio every time.

  "We've just come from Barbara Ross's apartment." Mae sat down in the chair next to the desk, and Mitch followed her, watching Claud watch his every move. He felt like a rabbit being stalked by a snake. "She wasn't there, but her maid was," Mae went on. "The maid said she's Armand's widow."

  Claud's eyes panned slowly to Mae. "She's mistaken."

  "I don't think so." Mae took a deep breath. "It would be such a dumb lie. What if he married her? What would it mean?"

  "She would inherit half." Claud evidently saw consequences only in monetary terms.

  Mitch joined the conversation even though he knew it would bother Claud. Especially since he knew it would bother Claud. "Including half of your half of his stock," he pointed out.

  Claud panned back to Mitch, his dislike palpable even though his face remained a mask. "There is no stock."

  Mitch leaned back in his chair. "Why not?"

  Claud's fish eyes didn't move. "Why are you here?"

  Mitch was annoyed. Claud's one-note performance was getting on his nerves, and he hated being annoyed alone, so he smiled inanely at Claud to bring him along for the ride. "Mabel hired me to find Armand's killer. You wouldn't know anything about that, would you?"

  Claud's eyes chilled him. "There is no killer. Armand died of heart failure."

  "Everybody dies of heart failure," Mitch said. "We'd just like to know what caused his heart to fail."

  Mae kicked Mitch on the ankle. "Behave," she said under her breath. "Barbara is not the only problem," she said, returning to Claud. "Things have been disappearing from the house."

  Claud blinked slowly. "Things?"

  Mi