Secrets Read online

  Four days before he was to leave, he went to dinner at Althea’s. It was difficult to get over his anger at her because he knew that Cassie’s involvement with the woman was what had caused the end of his comfortable life. And, indirectly, it was because of Althea that Cassie had left him.

  But if Althea knew anything, it was about men. It didn’t matter that she could be Jeff’s grandmother, she knew how to get ’round his anger, his sullenness, and his lack of conversation. After dinner, she had him in her attic trying on clothes that Dana Andrews could have worn in the movie Laura. By the end of the evening, Jeff was smiling and looking forward to the weekend—and although no one had come out and said it, he was sure Cassie would be there.

  In the first hour after he arrived at Charles Faulkener’s house, Jeff wished he hadn’t come. Faulkener was a jerk, and, worse, Skylar was there and had been assigned the role of Jeff’s wife, Ruth. He wanted to call his father and Althea to tell them what he thought of them, but he didn’t.

  It had been a month since he’d even seen Skylar, but she kept making innuendoes that said she thought Jeff was trying to get them back together.

  “We never were together, and you know it,” he said, but she just smiled.

  When Jeff saw Cassie on the stairs, he wanted to grab her, hug her, and kiss her face. But the look she gave him almost singed his hair. Obviously, she hadn’t known he was going to be there.

  But later, when he’d seen her in her room, she’d given him hope. No one could be that angry and not still have feelings about a person, could they?

  Now, if he could just keep from doing anything to make her hate him, he’d do fine. He promised himself that this time, he wouldn’t screw it up. This time he was going to…He wasn’t yet sure what he’d do, but he hoped to win Cassie back.

  “Would you please stop following me?” Cassie said, turning around to glare at Jeff. It was night, after dinner, and they were outside. She’d wanted to get away from Jeff’s eyes, which always seemed to be on her, but he’d followed her.

  “Cassie…”

  “I’m Althea,” she said. “For two whole days, until you’re dragged off for murder, I am Althea Fairmont, the world’s greatest actress, and I have no idea who Cassie is.”

  “All right,” Jeff said, moving to stand before her. Around them were flowers lining the paths of Faulkener’s lush garden. The scent wafted around them. “You’re Althea and I’m Hinton, and we’re in love with each other, remember?”

  “Vaguely. I do remember that in spite of what Charles says, you and I never touched one another off the set.”

  “Would you like to rehearse our next movie now?”

  “No, I would not. I think I see your wife’s face at the window. You’d better go in.”

  “She can wait. Cass—I mean, Althea, I’d like to talk to you. I think it’s time I tell you the truth.”

  “That would make for a change.”

  “I’m…” He cleared his throat. “This is difficult for me to say. I’m not a structural engineer.”

  She blinked at him. “But I’ve seen the plans you’ve drawn. You love bridges.”

  “I hardly know one end of them from the other. Those drawings were found by the department and my name put on them. I brought them home because I wanted to impress you.”

  “Me? Why would you want to impress me? And if you aren’t an engineer, what are you?”

  “I’ve been involved in the CIA since before I finished college.”

  Cassie took a step back from him. Her mind was whirling with the significance of what he was saying. “You’re saying that the entire year I lived in your house was a lie?”

  “No, not at all,” he said as he reached out to touch her, but she pulled back. “Cassie.”

  She took another step away from him. “I don’t know how to make myself more clear. I don’t want to have anything to do with you. Every time you open your mouth, you make things worse. I promised Althea that I’d participate in this weekend, so I’ll do it. And you can be sure that I’ll tell her what I think of her inviting you . Now, your wife is watching and I think you should go to her. There’s supposed to be only one murder here this weekend and I don’t want it to be mine.” With that, she turned away from him and walked quickly back into the house and went to her room, where she locked the door.

  CIA agent indeed, she said to herself as she showered and got ready for bed. Really! The things men come up with to try to impress a woman. “Does he think that I am a little girl and need the excitement of a CIA agent to turn me on? A plain ol’ structural engineer isn’t enough for me?”

  By the time she got into bed, she was glad she’d run away from Jefferson Ames. She might have thought she knew him because she’d lived in his house for a year, but she was finding out that she didn’t know him at all.

  She spent thirty minutes going over the notes she’d made from Althea’s packet about what had actually happened that weekend so long ago. Tomorrow morning Jeff’s—Hinton’s—wife, Ruth, was to tell Althea that she had something to show her, then she was to look through a peephole and see Charles in bed with Florence Myers.

  Cassie wondered if Althea had given Skylar a set of instructions. If she hadn’t, it didn’t matter because Althea had sent a diagram of the house that showed how to find the peephole. Of course there would be nothing to see, as she doubted if old, fat Charles would be in bed with anyone, but Cassie planned to look through the hole anyway.

  18

  CASSIE WASN’T SUREwhat happened during the night, but it was as though everyone in the house had been coached except her. The evening before, people had been themselves, but today, they were fully in character.

  That morning she had checked her notes and read that she was to wear a pale pink charmeuse outfit that had trousers that fit tightly over her newly firm rear end, then flowed out until they were wide around the ankles. When she walked, the slinky fabric clung to her body, exposing every line of it. On top was a matching belted jacket that covered but showed everything.

  She looked at herself in the full-length mirror inside the wardrobe door and her eyes widened. Six months ago she wouldn’t have fit into the sexy outfit, but now she did. She couldn’t help smiling. Skylar had always made nasty little comments about Cassie’s weight, but she couldn’t now.

  When she went down the main staircase, she felt as though she were floating. The silk pajama set made her feel like Carole Lombard. Her hair was smooth about her head, styled in a way that Althea had had a hairdresser teach her to do, even down to two Chinese pins stuck in it. Her earrings were little pink pearls, and her shoes were white kidskin.

  When Cassie walked into the dining room, she was happy to see that everyone, six men and four women, paused, plate in hand. Only Charles was missing. She pretended not to notice that they were staring and went to the buffet to pick up a plate.

  “Get a load of those gams,” one man said.

  “Must be a hoofer,” said another one.

  “A spiffy Sheba,” said a third.

  Skylar looked over her plate. “A Dumb Dora, if you ask me.”

  “Someone’s been studying the slang list,” Jeff whispered into Cassie’s ear, and she tried not to laugh.

  Cassie took her plate of scrambled eggs to the table and sat down. Jeff as Hinton sat down across from her. He wore an open-throated shirt that clung to his muscular chest. Beside him sat Skylar as his wife, Ruth Landau, and she had a sour look on her face. Cassie didn’t know if she was acting or if the look was sincere. And she wondered what Skylar had been told about her part in the coming drama.

  The person Cassie was most interested in was the young woman who was playing Florence Myers. Althea had written that Charles always cast this woman himself, and he prided himself on finding girls who looked a great deal like Miss Myers. She had enclosed a studio portrait of Florence, which showed a rather ordinary-looking woman. She was pretty, yes, but not beautiful, and she had the kind of face that wouldn’t age well. She