Moonlight Masquerade Read online

  Reede ran his hand over his face. “Do you have any idea what they do to me? A few months ago they gave a party and they—”

  “Invited every eligible female around,” Roan cut in as he leaned toward Russell. “We’d never before seen such a flurry of dress buying in the history of Edilean. I heard that one of the women bought a dress, changed her mind, and took it back.”

  “Is that bad?” Russell asked.

  “She did it six times,” Roan said, obviously enjoying Reede’s discomfort.

  Russell was frowning. “Did you like any of the women?”

  “How would I know?” Reede asked. “They were all so disgustingly agreeable that I couldn’t figure out any of them. If I’d said I liked to torture baby ducks for a hobby I’m sure all of them would have agreed with me.”

  “Whoever heard of an agreeable woman being something bad?” Russell asked. “Did you date any of them later?”

  “No,” Reede said. “I don’t have time for dating. Besides, I’ve tried it and it doesn’t work. I get called out on an emergency and have to stand her up and she gets angry. Or I see her as a patient and that never works out.”

  “So you live in lonely solitude,” Roan said.

  “Look who’s talking,” Reede said. “You want a woman who can discuss philosophy with you and also repair your chain saw.”

  “I was sooooo close,” Roan said.

  “What does that mean?” Russell asked.

  “Too long a story,” Reede answered. “I’m going home and go to bed.”

  “Wow!” Roan said as he looked around Reede to the front of the tavern. “Speaking of female bliss, look what just walked in.”

  The other men turned to look at the woman who’d entered. In spite of the dirt on her, she was easily the prettiest girl in the place, maybe in the town. She was wearing a simple cotton dress with a pink cardigan, and running shoes, but they didn’t hide her curvy figure.

  “She looks like a young Bardot,” Roan said.

  “She seems to be looking for someone,” Russell said.

  Reede turned back around. “With my luck, it’s me. She probably bruised her arm and wants immediate medical attention.”

  “Maybe so,” Roan said, “but the exam would be a real joy.”

  “Not to me.” Reede drained his beer. “Is she coming this way?”

  “No, she’s talking to Mrs. Garland,” Russell said.

  Reede groaned. “Another person who hates me. She’s spreading—That’s confidential, but I had a stern talk with her, and she put on such a show of misery for my staff that for two days I had to put up with their eye rolling and huffing.”

  “They still counting the days until Tris returns?” Roan asked.

  “There’s a three-year calendar by Betsy’s computer. She penciled in x’s on every day and she erases one each morning. Each day takes them closer to when their precious, can-do-no-wrong Dr. Tris returns.”

  “Uh-oh,” Roan said, “the little beauty is coming this way. I sure hope it’s me she wants.”

  “Some tutoring in Hegel and Kant?” Russell asked. Roan taught philosophy at Berkeley but he was now on sabbatical.

  “I’d give that baby whatever she wants,” Roan said.

  It turned out that Sophie had wanted Reede, but not for any reasons they had thought of.

  Both Russell and Roan had sat there, paralyzed, unable to move, while the pretty young woman poured beer over Reede’s head. He’d been wearing his look of dread, that yet another woman was going to come on to him, when he got a shock of cold beer.

  Her words of “Next time, watch where you’re going” seemed to explain it all. Earlier, when Reede had sat down with them, he’d complained about people littering the highway.

  “I glanced down in the seat at some paperwork and when I looked up there was a big white envelope in the road. I couldn’t help but run over the thing. I don’t know what the hell was in it, but it crunched under my tire. I hope it didn’t give me a flat.”

  Russell thought that from the look of Sophie’s dirty, ragged state, there was more to the story than what Reede had told them—or that he knew. For one thing Russell doubted if Reede had just “glanced” down at some paperwork. In spite of his complaining, Reede Aldredge was an extremely dedicated doctor. If someone was really ill, he’d do whatever was needed to save the person, even if it took days of his time. Reede had said he hadn’t slept in days, then he’d had the frustration of being called to an emergency that wasn’t real. It was Russell’s guess that Reede had been more absorbed in his caseload than in his driving.

  Russell glanced at Sophie as she sat there in silence, clutching her envelope to her, and she looked as though she were at the bottom of her ability to go on. He’d worked with people who had her look, and too many of them came to a bad end.

  Yesterday he’d called his brother and Kim, who were on their extended honeymoon, to tell them the good news that he’d been given the job as pastor of Edilean Baptist Church. He’d start in three weeks. Travis had asked him to look after Kim’s friend, Sophie Kincaid, saying that she was staying at Mrs. Wingate’s and . . . Russell couldn’t remember exactly what else his brother had said. Was there mention of a job? “Yesterday was pretty busy at my house but didn’t I hear that you have a job in Edilean?”

  “Yes,” Sophie said. “I’m to be a personal assistant to Kim’s brother, Reede. Watch out!”

  Her statement had so shocked him that Russell had swerved to the right and nearly run off the road. He got the truck straightened out and tried to think about what to do. Tell her that Reede was the man who’d nearly run over her? He looked back at her. She looked so forlorn that he couldn’t kick her while she was down. Maybe if he could postpone the meeting for a few days he could find Sophie another job. He wondered what she was qualified to do.

  “So you went to school with Kim?”

  “Yes,” Sophie said. “College.”

  “What did you study, if you don’t mind my asking, that is.”

  “All three of us roommates got our degrees in fine arts. Jecca went two dimensional, with painting, Kim only cared about jewelry, and I went three.”

  “Dimensional? As in . . . ?”

  “Sculpting.”

  Great, Russell thought. How was he going to find a job for a sculptor in Edilean? He smiled at her. “I bet you’re hungry.”

  They had reached the town and Sophie was looking out the window at the beautifully restored old houses that lined the streets. Kim had said that Edilean was a town that time forgot, and it looked like she was right.

  “It’s pretty,” she said to Russell as he pulled into the parking lot of what looked to be a 1950s dinner. “Al’s,” she said and smiled for the first time.

  “Kim tell you about the place?”

  “She said it could give you a coronary at one plateful.”

  Russ smiled. “I’m sure she’s right, but sometimes grease heals wounds.”

  “I’m not exactly dressed to be seen,” Sophie began as Russell went around to open her door.

  “This is Edilean, not Paris. No one will notice.” As he ushered her inside the little restaurant he realized how wrong he’d been. Sophie’s prettiness caused everyone to look. Even in her frayed attire, she drew attention.

  The real reason he’d stopped at the diner was to be able to make some calls before he took Sophie to Kim’s house. As soon as they’d ordered, he excused himself and stepped outside to call his wife, Clarissa. He asked her to please go to the grocery and get enough to fill Kim’s refrigerator.

  “But I thought her friend was staying at Mrs. Wingate’s.”

  “She was nearly run down by a car.”

  “Is she all right?” Clarissa asked, alarmed. “Should she go see Dr. Reede?”

  “No!” Russell nearly shouted, then controlled himself. “It’s a long story and I want to tell you about it—and to ask your advice. The gist of it is that Reede is the one who nearly ran over her and she’s to start work for h