Читать книгу Framed! - Robin Caroll - Страница 14

Sleep had remained as elusive to Ava as the mystery surrounding her brother’s death.

Now, determination to prove herself in the corporate world drove her to dress in a classy business suit and head downstairs.

Rhett’s barking beckoned Ava down the hall to her mother’s suites at eight. As per usual these days, the door was shut. Ava rapped softly. “Mother?”

“Go away and leave me alone.”

The temptation to flee nearly spun Ava in the opposite direction, but she couldn’t disregard her mother’s grief. Squaring her shoulders, Ava turned the knob and pushed open the door. The little dog met her, prancing and whining. “Have you let Rhett out this morning?”

“I told you to leave me alone.” Charla sat in her wheelchair facing the window, her back to the door.

Ava ignored her mother’s bitter tone and crossed to the patio door, then flung it open. Crisp, early February air swirled through the rooms. The little dog burst outside into the yard. She faced her mother and nearly gasped aloud. Never before had she seen her so…so unkempt. No makeup, her hair in total disarray, and in the same outfit she’d worn to the funeral. Had she slept in those clothes?

“Will you please leave now?”

Maybe she should. She certainly didn’t know what to say. Every instinct she had urged her to do as her mother requested, but her heart wouldn’t allow her to budge.

Ava cracked the patio door open wider, allowing the air admittance. Once the stuffiness had been banished down the corridor, Ava faced Charla, hands on her hips. “Mother, I know you’re grieving—I am, too. Please don’t shut me out. I miss Dylan terribly.” Tears clogged her throat.

“Don’t talk to me about missing him.” Charla’s voice raised an octave and quivered. “He always was too weak for this earth. Letting himself get distracted and led astray. Just too much like his father…”

Ava swallowed as disappointment crawled up her spine. “I know you’re crushed, but don’t push me away.” She softened her tone. “We’re it, Mother. All that’s left of the family. We should be pulling together, not mourning alone.”

Charla’s bright green eyes, identical to Ava’s, filled with moisture. For a moment, Ava detected a softness in her mother she’d never seen before. A vulnerability of sorts. A blink later, it was gone. “I’d like you to leave now.”

Ava teared up as well, despite trying not to break down. “Mother, please don’t do this. We need each other.” She all but begged.

Before Charla could speak, the little terrier bolted back into the room, so full of vigor his little body quivered.

Ava stared at her mother, her emotions knotting. She’d never been able to run to Charla for comfort, even as a child. Her father had been the one who held her when she had nightmares, kissed her bumps and bruises, put ointment on her scraped knees. Her mother had never shown any maternal instinct. Now that Ava thought about it, Charla hadn’t ever shown any affection for her daughter. Sure, she’d doted on Dylan, but never Ava.

Bitterness held Ava’s tongue. Charla called Rhett into her lap, gripped him tightly and glared. “Just leave me alone.”

She clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides, fighting for what composure she could retain. “What about the Renault Corporation, Mother? Are you going to ignore it as well? The company Dylan put so much time and energy into?”

“I can’t even face the office—reminders of my sweet boy are everywhere.” Charla narrowed her eyes.

That answered that. There was no reasoning with her, and Ava didn’t have the strength left to argue. Or to ask for control of the company…yet.

She shut the patio door and marched from the suites without another word. After turning the corner of the hall, Ava pressed her back against the wall. She closed her eyes and slid to the floor.

Daddy…Dylan…no one to turn to now. Dear Lord, please give me strength and peace.

The pent-up tears spewed from her eyes, making warm tracks down her cheeks. She didn’t care. Let them fall where they would, Ava couldn’t hold back the pain any longer. She’d never felt so alone in her life. At least after the car accident, Dylan had been there to hold her and soothe the loss of their father. Drawing her knees to her chest, she rested her forearms atop her knees, then laid her head on her arms, sobbing without control.

Max’s image flitted across her mind. She didn’t have to be alone if she didn’t want to be. He said he’d be there for her.

Ava shook her head and wiped her face against her sleeve. Now she was being downright silly. After the way she’d brushed Max off the last several years, it was a miracle he even spoke to her, much less be willing to help her in any way.

“Ms. Ava, are you okay?”

Ava pushed to her feet and swiped her sleeve over her eyes again. “I’m fine, Bea.” She smoothed her shirt. “Was there something you needed?”

The elderly lady cocked her head. “Just checking on Ms. Charla this morning.” Concern etched into the lines deep in her face.

The woman had been with the family since Ava was a toddler. If anyone knew Charla Renault at all, it was Bea. Or Bosworth, who had been with Charla even longer. Since childhood, really.

“Mother’s still not feeling well.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you, though.” Ava held her head high and strode to the office. Only when she was ensconced safely behind the massive oak doors did she collapse in the kid leather chair, her eyes again spilling with tears.

She glanced at the picture on the corner of the desk. Her father and Dylan had their arms over each other’s shoulders, their silly, smiling faces posing for Ava behind the lens. Tears flowed from her eyes. Why both of them?

Sniffing, Ava cleared her throat, but questions still niggled against her mind. What about the red hair found? What had Dylan been doing at the abandoned Renault Hall? He had to be meeting someone. That was the only logical explanation.

Meeting his own murderer.

Just the thought sent shivers down her back. She needed to do something. To talk to someone.

Max.

Amazing how her fingers pressed the numbers of his cell so quickly, as if they moved of their own accord. She gripped the phone tightly. What was she doing calling Max at this hour of the morning? She shouldn’t bother him. “Hello.” His voice was a nice mix of baritone with Southern drawl.

“Hi, Max.”

“Ava. How are you?”

“Holding on. I’m going to head into Renault Corporation and see where the business is. Try to make heads or tails of everything.”

“I’ll be more than happy to help you catch up, I mean, if you’d like input from someone with an MBA.”

“As opposed to someone who is just-a-nothing wedding planner?”

He hesitated. “I didn’t mean any offense, Ava. Just offering to help.”

“I know. It’s just that very reaction is what I ran into when I called the office. The office manager seemed shocked I even knew where the building was located.” She twisted the phone cord around her finger.

“I’m at your service, ma’am.”

She laughed, throaty and humorless. “Well, I’m smart enough to know I’m going to need help, and I don’t believe the workers will think I’m worthy to be brought up to speed.” She paused, her breathing a bit erratic over the thought of working with him, side by side. “I gratefully take you up on your offer. Can you meet me at the office at ten?”

“I’d be honored. But, uh, Ava, you realize your mother will have a fit if I so much as park in the parking lot at Renault Corporation, right?”

“You saw her at the funeral. There’s no way she can oversee the company right now.”

“You’ll need to get your company lawyer to obtain a power of attorney over the corporation—otherwise, you can’t sign anything.”

Something else she’d have to handle. Alone. “I’ll get on that.”

“What about your business?”

“My assistant is handling things for the time being.”

“Then I’ll see you soon.”

“I really appreciate it.” Her words lilted with relief. “I mean it, Max. I really do appreciate your willingness to help me out.”

“No problem.”

The familiar beep of another call coming through sounded against her ear. “We can talk more when I see you.”

“Looking forward to it.”

She pressed the button on the phone to answer the other call. “Hello.”

“Ava? It’s Jocelyn.”

“Hey, girl.”

“How are you?”

“I’m fine. As well as can be expected.” Ava traced the engraved scrollwork on the edge of the desk with her fingernail.

“If you want to talk, you know I’m here for you.”

Ava smiled, knowing her friend actually meant what she offered. “I know. I’m holding my own.” She glanced at her appointment book. “About to dive into work. It’ll at least keep my mind occupied.”

“That’s actually one of the reasons I was calling.”

“Really?”

“Sam and I are getting married, and we’d like you to plan the blessed event.”

“Congratulations.” Ava glanced at her planner again. “When were you thinking of having the wedding?”

“As soon as you can plan it, if you feel up to it.”

As if she wouldn’t plan her close friend’s wedding? Then again, Sam had questioned Dylan. She tried to remember…Dylan being a suspect in Angelina’s murder had been Sheriff Reed’s idea. Wait a minute—Jocelyn said as soon as possible? “Um, is there any particular reason for the urgency?”

Jocelyn laughed. “Just that we’ve wasted enough time, don’t you think?”

Ava chuckled as well. Joceyln’s excitement was contagious. “Of course. I’d be happy to plan your wedding.” When she’d have time, she hadn’t a clue. “When would you like to meet to set a date and go over preliminary details?”

“Sam and I are both free tomorrow morning. How about the breakfast buffet at the hotel? I’m actually thinking that might work for the wedding reception.”

Nodding, Ava grabbed a pen. “Let’s plan on, say, nine tomorrow morning?”

“Perfect. Thanks, Ava.”

The morning sun shone down on Loomis, despite the fogginess hovering over the bayou. Max slipped his sunglasses into the truck’s holder after parking at Pershing Land Developing. He gazed next door at their real estate office. At least Georgia Duffy’s car wasn’t in the lot. He’d dodged the bullet again. Ever since he’d broken up with her years ago, the woman seemed determined to worm her way back into his life. She’d even gone so far as to work at Pershing Real Estate. The fact that she lived in Pershing Plaza didn’t help matters, either.

He headed into the building on Church Street, nodding at the receptionist on his way to his office.

“Why, Max, aren’t you here bright and early?” Patsy Thomas, his secretary, sounded shocked.

He smiled as he unlocked his office door. “Good morning to you, Patsy.” He winked and turned on his lights. Since he normally came in around ten, he understood her surprise at his darkening the door before nine. “I’m just getting work lined up for the troops as I’ll be out of the office most of today.”

Helping Ava. Getting to be with her again. Working with her.

Patsy followed him into his office, taking his jacket to hang on the brass hooks behind the door. “Playing hooky, are ya?”

“Sort of.” And with the only person he wanted to play hooky with. “Will you bring me the February projections report?”

“Certainly. I’ll bring it with your coffee.”

Max grinned at the secretary who’d served him for more than five years. Patsy was about twenty years older than he and almost motherly, but not in the same manner as Max’s own mother. No, Patsy couldn’t compare with Lenore Pershing. Patsy was kind and gentle. Not a control freak. “Thanks.”

Once alone, he booted up his computer and checked his e-mail. The flood of business had his agents booked solid for the rest of the week. Fear of what would happen to the Renault Corporation after Dylan’s death had everyone running for cover. Ava truly did need his help.

Charla Renault, now there was a woman who could give his own mother a run for her money in the control-freak department. That they were arch rivals and had been for decades…well, it just fit. Everyone in Loomis had long ago picked which side of the feud they fell on, and were very careful not to stray too close to the middle…All because of a marriage that went bad and a public embarrassment generations ago. It made no sense to Max. Then again, there’d been a couple of business deals that went sour because of the family feud over the past couple of years. Still, that hadn’t been enough to send Ava away to boarding school…had it?

Patsy tapped on his door and entered without a response. She set a steaming cup of coffee on the desk in front of him alongside a spreadsheet. “Anything else?”

He took a sip of the black coffee. Strong, just the way he liked it. “Thanks, Pats. I really appreciate it.”

“Want to tell me what’s going on?” She perched on the arm of the leather chair facing his desk.

“I’m just helping out a friend. She needs help managing her company on a temporary basis.” He took another sip, then stared at his secretary.

“What friend?”

He shrugged, but felt the heat creeping across his face. “Just a friend from school who needs a bit of advice.”

Patsy stood and made a clucking sound with her tongue. “That friend wouldn’t happen to be Ms. Ava Renault, now would it?”

Max grinned. “Does it make a difference?”

His secretary chuckled, loud and hearty. “Not to me, but I bet it does to your momma. What’s Lenore say about this?”

The smile slid off his face. “She’s none too happy.”

“Bet that’s putting it mildly.”

“Yeah.” He ran a finger around the lip of the cup. “But I just have to help Ava out.” He lifted his gaze to his secretary’s face.

“I understand.” Patsy moved toward the door. “Have a good day, and I’ll hold down the fort here.”

“Thanks, Pats.”

Someday, sooner rather than later, he was going to have to sit his mother down and tell Lenore to back off from his life. Once he figured out what he really felt for Ava, he would.

Confusion wreaked havoc in his heart. Ava definitely sent him mixed signals—ignoring him for years, even going so far as to cross the street to not have to pass him, refusing any eye contact with him, then working with him on the committee and allowing him to hold her at the funeral. Okay, so she’d been grief stricken. But now she’d called. Twice. Surely that meant something.

Meant she needed help.

No, Ava wasn’t a user. Not like her mother. Or like her brother had been.

Max cringed. He hated to think ill of the dead, but truthfully, everyone in Loomis knew Dylan was a heartbreaker. He used women’s feelings for him when it suited him. And many times, it suited him. Although a couple of weeks ago, he seemed to have changed.

He’d have to think of a way to tell Ava what he knew without setting off her alarms. He’d started to when she asked questions on the phone, but she’d dismissed him. Maybe he’d get a chance today when he worked with her. The idea of working with her lifted his spirits, he had to admit.

Patsy rushed into his office and shut the door. “Max, the sheriff and a deputy are here to see you.”

His heart sank as he struggled to stand. “See me? Whatever for?”

“They said they had some questions for you. Both of them.”

In a bigger city, two local lawmen showing up wouldn’t be a big deal. But here, in St. Tammany parish, if more than one in uniform came with questions, it had to be bad news. Very bad.

Max swallowed against a dry mouth and nodded at his secretary. “Show them in, please, Pats.”