Page 43 of The Bride Wore White

Chapter 19

The following afternoon Prudence was in the kitchen arranging coffee and tea things on a tray when the phone rang in the library. It only rang once because Jack picked up immediately. It didn’t take any psychic insight to know he was expecting news from either Luther Pell or Raina Kirk, the private investigator he was using to track down information.

She picked up the tray and carried it toward the door. Jack’s manuscript was on the breakfast table. She was over halfway through and riveted. The subject was interesting in its own right, but what fascinated her was what she was learning about the author. She wondered if Jack had any idea how much of himself he was revealing in the pages ofThe Wingate Crime Tree.

She carried the tray along the hallway and into the library. Jack was at his desk, the phone in one hand, a pencil in the other. There was a notepad at the ready.

He glanced up when she set the tray on a nearby table, but he spoke into the phone.

“Who accompanied Dover?” he asked.

He started making notes on the pad of paper.

Prudence poured one cup of coffee and one of tea.

“Her personal doctor?” Jack asked. “Why? Her nerves? That’s interesting.” He made another note. “Anyone else? Yes, I want the names of the chauffeur and the housekeeper. I need everything I can get on everyone in that household. Thanks.”

Prudence set the coffee on the desk. She had not bothered to add sugar or cream to the tray. After two nights and nearly three days of living in the very quiet household, she had discovered that Jack did not use either in his coffee.

She had learned a few other things as well, such as the fact that he did not get a lot of phone calls. The man evidently did not have many friends or business associates. She had been unable to determine with absolute certainty if there was a lover in the picture, but her intuition told her the answer was no. She was sure there had been some lovers in the past and there would be more in the future, because underneath that invisible suit of armor Jack wore, there was a man of strong passions. For some reason he appeared to be doing his best to bury them.

She sat down with her own cup and saucer, crossed her legs, and waited for the end of the conversation.

“Got it,” Jack said. “I really appreciate this, Raina. Yes, I’ll give her your best. Yes, I will make sure you meet her soon.”

He set the receiver in the cradle and looked at Prudence, his eyes heating with an unfamiliar intensity. The hunter in him had been aroused, she realized. This was the kind of work he had been born to do.

“Clara Dover arrived in Burning Cove by car this afternoon,” he said. He noticed the coffee in front of him and picked up the cup. “She’s not alone. In addition to her housekeeper and her chauffeur, she was accompanied by her personal doctor. They are renting a house on Sundown Point.”

She had been about to take a sip of her tea. She paused the cup halfway to her mouth. “Clara Dover brought a doctor with her?”

“According to Raina, yes.” Jack glanced at his notes and then looked up, very curious now. “Dr.Harley Flood. Apparently he specializes in various types of nervous conditions. Does that surprise you?”

“I’m not sure.” She put the cup on the saucer while she considered the question. “Remember, I haven’t had any contact with Clara for several months. She was one of the reasons I left San Francisco.”

“Because she was pressuring you to marry her son and threatening to destroy your business if you didn’t.”

“Yes. Judging by what I knew of her then, I’d say she’s the last person in California who needs a doctor for her nerves. That woman could face down a charging rhinoceros. But—”

“What?”

“She was obsessed with Gilbert. His death may have affected her nerves.”

“Maybe, but Dr.Flood appears to have come on the scene before Gilbert died.” Jack glanced at his notes. “A few weeks ago, in fact. That is, of course, very interesting.”

He set the cup on the saucer, opened the wide center drawer of his desk, and took out a long rolled-up sheet of heavy paper that looked as if it had been torn out of an artist’s sketchbook. He unrolled the page and anchored one corner with the crystal paperweight. He used various Bakelite desk accessories to pin down the other three corners.

Curious, she put down her tea and got to her feet. She stopped on the opposite side of the desk and studied the chart he was creating. As she watched, he uncapped a pen and used a ruler to draw a large square box. He inserted the wordsHarley Flood.Nerve Doctorinto the box.

“You’re making a crime tree, aren’t you?” she said, intrigued.

“Yes,” he said. He did not look up from the chart.

“I read your instructions for creating one in chapter two of your book,” she said.

Jack drew another box and wrote inMaud Hollister. Housekeeper. “But it goes beyond family members. It’s a chart of all the individuals who appear to be closely connected with Gilbert Dover.”

“Your list of suspects,” she said. “I understand. But are you sure the killer will be someone who is close to the family?”

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