Adventurer Gone Page 5

  “Dara, this is Hettie. How are you?”

  Hettie’s face changed from mockery of Ro to concern with whatever she was hearing over the telephone.

  “We had such a wonderful time with you last night, and Ro and I would like to treat you to a soak at the bathhouse.”

  Hettie frowned at whatever Dara’s reaction was. “Oh, I see.” She drummed her fingers on the desk, her frown deepening and Ro wondered what was happening. She joined Hettie by the phone and Hettie held the phone out so Ro could hear Dara’s side of the conversation.

  “…I dunno. I shouldn’t. I promised Herbert that I’d go to dinner with him.” Dara didn’t sound particularly excited by that idea.

  Ro, struck by sudden inspiration, took the phone from Hettie.

  “Dara. Hello, it’s Ro. We don’t mean to be a bother but we were really hoping you could help us put together our adventurer wardrobe. We simply cannot do this without you. Would you be willing to reschedule your dinner? Tell him that a desperate need has been thrown at your feet? Complete with puppy dog eyes and begging?”

  “A wardrobe?” Interest filled Dara’s voice for the first time. The woman needed to give up her fiend of a lover Herbert and decide to turn her attention to clothes or something less likely to leave her mottled with bruises.

  “Please say yes, truly, we are desperate,” Hettie added, taking the phone. “We could shop and then relax at the bathhouse.”

  Dara laughed. “Oh, I suppose he wouldn’t mind if I helped you. I’ll let him know. Perhaps he can take me to dinner tomorrow night. He was intrigued by you two. Said he swore he’d heard your names before and was determined to drum up the idea.”

  Hettie waggled her brows at Ro. He’d probably read one of the articles about their husbands’ murders or the sinking of the yacht that had killed so many others along with their philandering, lying, warts of husbands.

  Ro grabbed the phone. “Wonderful! I knew we could count on you. Don’t forget to pack your pajamas. The party at the bathhouse tonight is pajama-themed and a sleepover. We’ll go there after we shop. It’s the least we can do to thank you for your kind assistance.”

  “That sounds wonderful. You know, I’m actually quite excited to get to know you both better.”

  Hettie took the phone back. “What’s your address? We’ll pick you up at three o’clock, and we’ll shop until we’re ready for our shenanigans at the bathhouse.”

  Hettie hung up the phone once she’d jotted down Dara’s address. “Good save, Ro. Convincing her we needed her help. Brilliant.”

  “I, for one, do need her help. We must be dressed to the nines on our motorcycles whether we join their club or not. I’m wondering about some sort of version of a man’s horseback riding attire, but with embroidery. Something to make it feminine but still masculine. If that makes sense.”

  “I understand you perfectly,” Hettie said. “You make a valid point about the attire as well. Even if we kick those adventurers out of our lives, we really should leave with an excellent wardrobe.”

  Chapter 7

  The afternoon passed slowly with naps, a rather excellent lobster bouillabaisse, and a bowl of raspberries. They read the reports of their now jointly-owned cosmetics company, Artemis. Ro checked on some of her other business dealings that she’d inherited rather unexpectedly from her husband.

  She’d had quite a lovely time becoming familiar with Leonard’s businesses and selling the properties that she didn’t like and purchasing new ones. At her lawyer’s encouragement, she’d hired a man to handle many of her business dealings. It wasn’t entirely necessary, but it freed her up to only work on projects that she was passionate about. Raymond was due back from Paris today where he’d gone to research a few properties Ro was considering purchasing.

  They stopped in sufficient time to dress, with Ro deciding upon a pleated blush pink dress with a pleated skirt, a rather exciting knot near the neck, and a drape that disguised her chest to give her a straighter silhouette.

  Hettie, as usual, bemoaned that pink looked terrible on her and selected a quite deep blue dress that made her eyes seem as big and dark as violets. She fussed with her curls and then ran her fingers through them frantically, making a cloud of wide ringlets. Ro knew that Hettie despised those curls but Ro was envious and unashamed of being thus.

  Using Hettie’s driver, they picked up Dara right at three o’clock and they both noticed that Dara used a heavy hand with her cosmetics, so Ro suspected that she was covering a solid bruise. Ro had to choke back an outraged tirade at Dara for being with Herbert and that demon bloke for inflicting pain on the woman he was supposed to love.

  Rather than addressing it straight on, Ro decided to wait until they were done shopping and relaxing at the bathhouse. She was much more likely to get information out of Dara with a little whisky, especially when you added in being pampered with massages and spa treatments.

  Dara, it seemed, had a favorite boutique where the designer of the clothing was available for conferences about wardrobe and usage.

  “You have to think about what you’ll be doing in the clothes,” the designer, Matilda, explained. “Anyone can design a dress for dancing, but clothes for a motorcycle? Or a hot air balloon? Or a fishing and camping expedition along the Thames? You need some forethought and consideration.”

  “I want boots,” Hettie told the designer. “I want boots that lace to my knees and protect my legs on a motorcycle. I want them to look as though they were made for me and are stylish. And then I want something utterly snazzy and feminine to go along with them.”

  “A contrast?”

  Hettie nodded.

  “What if we made them like you said, but with worked, etched leather? Crafted into the leather to draw attention that those boots might look like a man’s boot, but they aren’t.”

  “Yes,” Hettie said instantly. “I’ll take them.”

  “Leather jackets are an excellent choice for riding a motorcycle. If you do have a tumble, it’s better to get your jacket scratched up rather than your arms and chest.”

  In a moment, the woman sketched out a jacket. “Given your curves, Hettie, I’d do something like this.”

  The drawing took in Hettie’s curves, deliberately accentuating her full chest and narrower waist. She had a bit of heft to her bottom and thighs, but she did have a rather narrow waist.

  “It’s quite the thing to be all straight lines right now,” Matilda said. “But, this is a choice for someone who isn’t entirely succumbing to the rules of society. Better to put on those boots, wear a nice protective pair of pants, and focus on the cut to shout you’re a woman and you’re adventurous.” Matilda had a way of speaking that had Hettie agreeing even when she wouldn’t accept the same compliments from Ro.

  “I like it,” Ro breathed. “What about me?”

  Using the existing designs, the stock in the store, and the sketches that Matilda drew just for Ro and Hettie, they both spent quite a pretty sum at the boutique. When they left, they had—well not a new wardrobe—but near to one coming to the hotel for them both rather soon. For anyone else, however, it would have been a wardrobe and a half.

  Hettie and Ro were not women to be judicious in their clothing purchases and it showed in their stuffed wardrobes.

  “You were right,” Ro told Dara, trying to avoid looking at the bruise. Her powder had faded over the course of the afternoon and the outlines of a fist-shaped bruise were showing.

  They shopped until the trunk of Hettie’s auto was completely filled.

  “I am most excited about my boots,” Hettie told the others as she sighed into a coffee at the nearby café.

  “That’s good,” Dara told Hettie with a laugh, checking her complexion in the mirror and starting at the apparent bruise on her face. She pulled out the puff and touched up her powder before avoiding their gazes and sipping her own coffee.

  In mercy, Ro said, “You did buy three pairs of boots, Hettie. We can tell you’re excited about those.”

  “So did you.”

  “Well, she could make them in black, brown, and red. Who could say no?”

  “Not I,” Hettie said back merrily, and Ro knew that Hettie was pointedly not watching as Dara surreptitiously re-checked her face.

  They had spent rather a long time with Matilda, but they were able to visit a hat shop, a place that specialized in evening gowns and cocktail dresses, and one that made the most fantastic lingerie.

  Every boutique they visited offered champagne, tea, and coffee. It was possible that they’d only accepted the champagne, Ro thought. It was also possible they had crossed the line from tipsy to slightly drunk. Fortunately, Hettie’s driver was there to see them safely about from store to store to dinner and then to the bathhouse.

  “Shopping was just the thing to brighten the day,” Dara commented. “Thank you for convincing me to get out of the house.”

  “It’s our pleasure,” Hettie said. “We feel so lucky to have met you yesterday. A lovely day of shoes, hats, and champagne. Those chocolates at the lingerie boutique were divine. We really should have gotten the name of their supplier.”

  “Mmm chocolate. Almost as good as a cocktail.” Ro’s head cocked and she winked at Dara while saying, “You’re a gracious friend, Hettie. You have barely mocked my decision to drink so soon after I swore it off forever.”

  Hettie smiled with a bit of a sideways, mocking look, “It’s not as though I thought you were serious this morning.” She turned to Dara. “Ro woke up with a hangover and vowed to never drink again. She lasted about four hours.”

  “Don’t start with me now, Hettie, or I’ll retract my compliment.”

  Dara snorted. “You two seem more like sisters than friends.”

  “We’re chosen sisters,”
Hettie said. “That’s even better. My actual sister makes my back-teeth hurt.”

  They reached the bathhouse and Hettie had her man leave her and take their things back to the hotel.

  Sliding into one of the finest Turkish cotton robes was all that Ro needed to sigh with bliss. She took another drink and followed Dara and Hettie through the offerings.

  Soap massages, followed by facials, and finally a long soak in the warm bathwater. This particular bathhouse had separate areas for men and women, which was why they’d chosen it. They didn’t want any men around, even staff, for this conversation.

  “Thanks for this,” Dara said. “This has been such a pleasant day so far. When do we get to the pajama portion of the night? I bought a new pair of pajamas just for this.”

  “After our soak, we’ll move to the lounge area. They’ll have hors d’oeuvres and then, I think, a scavenger hunt.”

  “In our pajamas?” Dara asked, either excited or unnerved, Ro couldn’t determine precisely.

  “It’ll be fun. I promise,” Hettie said. “We’re always fun.”

  They settled into the warm water and a natural silence enveloped them. Without powder, the bruises on Dara’s face were more obvious, but Ro wasn’t certain how to bring it up.

  She didn’t have to think long because Hettie jumped right in before Ro could collect her thoughts.

  “Dara?” Hettie had a look on her face that said she was up to something.

  Dara glanced up.

  “Why do you let Herbert hurt you?”

  Dara’s face paled at Hettie’s question and her eyes sparked with a touch of defiance. She couldn’t deny it, since they’d seen it with their own eyes. She was silent long enough that Ro thought she might just get out of the bath, but eventually, her eyes welled with tears. She opened her mouth to speak and a lone tear trickled down her cheek.

  “I shouldn’t make him so upset.” Her voice trembled and Ro had to bite back a shriek at Dara’s answer. She thought in that moment that she could probably murder Herbert with her bare hands if he appeared.

  “Talk to us,” Hettie said, “We can help. Somehow.”

  Ro had been a victim herself, but hadn’t been able to shake Leonard without a divorce. Dara wasn’t so trapped. Hettie didn’t react at all. Dara’s eyes searched their faces, solemn and even.

  After a few moments, Dara must have found what she was looking for. She took a deep, shaky breath and then her guard went down visibly and she said in a voice barely above a whisper, “He’s such a kind man sometimes. Used to be most of the time. No matter what I try, he’s angry more and more often. I don’t seem to be able to fix things.”

  Ro slid next to her and put a comforting arm around her. “I’m sorry this is happening to you, darling. You don’t deserve it. No woman does.”

  Dara sniffled amongst tears that came more freely now. “I know. I don’t know what to do.”

  “What about your friends? Do you think that one of them would talk to him about what changed?”

  Dara hesitated. “Herbert has been a member longer. I don’t want to ruin his reputation. We were engaged last week, but we haven’t told anyone yet. I’m sort of…embarrassed, I suppose…”

  “Why are you marrying him?” Hettie’s voice was gentle.

  “I love him. When things are good, they’re wonderful. How has it come to this? He didn’t even mind waiting to announce our engagement. Is he embarrassed of me too? What have I done?”

  Her words streamed out like a dam just broke inside her. Ro wanted to scream, but she knew that in her situation, it had taken someone killing Leonard to free her. Dara, however, wasn’t married. Why would you marry someone who left your face looking like Dara’s?

  “What do you want?” Hettie asked Dara simply.

  The tears spilled over again when Dara said, “I don’t know.”

  “Then take the time you need to decide,” Ro suggested. “I can tell you one thing for certain. There is nothing I regret more than marrying Leonard when I had doubts. Make sure you don’t have them.”

  Hettie took Dara’s hand. “Ro and I are quite resourceful when necessary. We’ll help you with whatever you need.” It was a lie. The last thing Hettie or Ro would do was help Dara marry Herbert. Leave him? Certainly. Lay a trap for him and beat him to provide him necessary perspective? In a second. Marry him? Never. Kill him if Dara decided to go through with it? Possibly, likely.

  “Everything will be all right,” Ro told Dara, meeting Hettie’s gaze and acknowledging the lie. With a smirk she added, “Hettie and Ro are on the case. Starting tomorrow. For tonight, we celebrate our lives like the Bright Young Things.”

  Chapter 8

  “Dara had fun, don’t you think?” Ro asked Hettie once they were back to their suite early the next morning and before they’d had any sleep. “I wouldn’t have thought that someone so likely to be beaten by her fiancé would be so aggressive about winning.”

  “She did seem overly excited about that bottle of champagne she won.” Hettie poured coffee for the two of them, breathing hers in a moment later. “I felt sorry to drop her off this morning.”

  “Me too. How do we get her to rid herself of Herbert? Or shall we pay someone to Shanghai him? What do you think?”

  Hettie nodded. “Yes, let’s. That solves everything, doesn’t it?”

  “But if we can’t?”

  “Then we need more coffee. I’m not tired, but I am so sick to my stomach. Too much smoking and too many cocktails. Not enough water, this time.”

  “We should try clove cigarettes next time. They smell so much better.”

  “Or give up smoking all together.” Hettie sighed. “I don’t even like it. I much prefer our other bad habits.”

  “That’s a conversation for another day. I feel a sense of urgency to help Dara. If we can’t Shanghai Herbert, we could just have him killed? Do her a favor?”

  Hettie nearly spit out her coffee. “Last resort, Ro. Last resort. I don’t like Dara enough to go to prison for her.”

  They brainstormed ideas from confronting Herbert directly to more covert options like discussing the idea of abuse in a roundabout way with Sadie and the others. Eventually, the lack of sleep rendered their conversation useless and they decided to take a nap and then reconvene once they’d gotten rest, once they realized they had returned to the idea of Herbert’s homicide a half-dozen times. It seemed a refreshed brain after sleep was the better course.

  Ro woke to Hettie in her room, opening the curtains.

  “I dreamed the perfect solution to our dilemma, Hettie. Get up. We’ve got a motorcycle ride to take.”

  Hettie groaned. “How long have I been sleeping?”

  “Only four hours, but we can sleep later. Sleep is for fools.”

  “I like sleep.” Hettie groaned as she sat up, glaring at Ro. “Is this payback for yesterday or do you truly have a good idea? It had better be good.”

  “It is good,” Ro said, crossing her finger over her heart. “We are going to ride our motorcycle to the club, find Herbert, and take him out for a ride with us. When we have him away from the club, we’ll confront him. In my dream, we used my father’s old antique revolver to threaten him and it worked so completely. Of course, that means we have to ride out to my father’s and pick up the revolver. So hurry up!”

  “You want to kidnap someone you know to be violent at gunpoint and threaten to kill him if he doesn’t swear off hurting Dara? Go back to bed, Ro. You still aren’t thinking clearly.”

  Ro stood, her hands on her hips, clearly serious about this. “Listen, Hettie. I don’t think we should be in the habit of ignoring dreams. It could be some sort of heavenly message. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen?”

  “You mean besides Herbert murdering us when he realizes our gun isn’t loaded and then dumping our bodies in a bog somewhere? Nothing. Nothing could possibly go wrong. But by all means, let’s risk our lives because your dreams said it was a good idea.”