James Methinks I See Thee, Jane

Pate and Faircloth, Book 2
1. Auflage 2016
ISBN: 978-0-9848605-5-5
Verlag: WoodRock House
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: Adobe DRM (»Systemvoraussetzungen)

E-Book, Englisch, 200 Seiten

Before JANE PATE and REGINALD FAIRCLOTH can plan a more romantic future, they are besieged by guests from England. Reginald's father, Wilbur, and Reginald's old fiancée, Helen, at once take Reginald off Jane's hands and into Helen's arms. Jane rides the back seat while these three moneyed individuals show her she must fight for her self-esteem. When she sets out to prove she can do more than catch snakes and write critter books, she discovers a far more vital matter awaiting proof. The plight of one missing homeless man turns into a shocking revelation of nursing homes full of victims and a doctor who will have wealth at any cost. Her pride and her great exposé forgotten, Jane races to save the next victim. When Reginald finds Jane breaking into offices, cracking safes, and burying stolen money, he does the only thing one would expect from Reginald Faircloth. He plunges into the situation in his own reckless style and proves he has played this game before. Book one of the Pate and Faircloth series, Wherefore Art Thou, Jane? won first place at the Readers Favorite International Awards in the mystery division! Book 2, Methinks I See Thee, Jane, takes place only minutes after Wherefore Art Thou, Jane? ends.

Autoren/Hrsg.

James, Jean

Leseproben

While three agree, four plots war.

“Jane, you can’t go home now—I need you. This blasted leg’s given out on me again. Come into my house where we can sit and chat. We have an important matter to discuss.”

She turned around in surprise at the piteous note in his voice. Reginald seldom acted romantic, but the expression on his face did appear…amorous. She wondered if a poignant moment awaited her, like possibly one in his arms.

“You wanted to discuss my new book ideas?” Dead certain that books and publishing didn’t inhabit his thoughts at that moment, she rendered her innocent look and mentally tried on new names—Mrs. Reginald Faircloth, Jane Faircloth, Mrs. Jane Faircloth. Another glance at his face convinced her it was a silly idea, especially considering Reginald.

“New book? Jane, we have a worthier subject to discuss than your critter books. I’ll publish more of them when your first book’s complete, but can’t you forget reptiles and creepy creatures for a few minutes and give me your attention? I’m in pain, confound it, and the doctor told me to stay off my feet.”

“I didn’t mean my nature books. I’m considering another genre. And if I remember correctly, the doctor didn’t tell you to stay off your feet. He told you to stay in the hospital.”

“How could I do that with you and José on the loose?” He used his crutch to punctuate his words, and Jane decided he looked slightly less amorous now. “I don’t want to see rattlers, marijuana, police cars, or anything remotely related to them until my leg’s recovered. No telling what you two might have gotten into if I’d stayed longer in the hospital. Someone had to look out for you.”

He shifted the crutch back under his arm and hobbled across the plush yard to her.

“Reginald, you’re the one who’s the worse for wear after our…our adventure. It’s debatable who needs supervision.”

“Are you volunteering, Jane? As keeper, I mean?”

Keeper? That sounded promising. Visions of kisses and embraces danced in her head as she held her breath and wondered if more such words were imminent. Of course there were many types of keepers—housekeepers…groundskeepers…

“In view of your past, I doubt I’d qualify as keeper. You need a full time body guard.”

“You know little enough about my past, and I jolly well know what I need. Come inside with me.”

When he turned toward his house, she looked around at his beautiful estate—such a contrast to her rundown rental sixty miles inland in a not-so-great area. And his prestigious publishing house loomed high in exalted air and cast a somewhat large shadow over her future aspirations. Wealth and possessions didn’t tempt her, but they could cause problems.

“Are you coming, Jane?” He waited impatiently by his walk and wore a frown.

It didn’t look like a proposal frown. She turned her back to him and decided passion wasn’t on his mind at all. Maybe he wanted to discuss José’s citizenship or some other business matter. She probably couldn’t endure his bossy, sporadically snooty disposition on a daily basis anyway, and his family back in England might present more complications—more snootiness and more wealth.

She glanced his way just as a perplexed scowl clouded his face. His attention was on a white Cadillac that pulled hesitantly into the drive and came to a stop beside its twin. A bejeweled hand waved from the passenger’s side window proving it wasn’t someone asking directions.

“Either your rental car has cloned or else you have company.”

“Blast! What now?” His grumble and air of annoyance changed to a look of dismay. “I must be daft. It’s…it’s Dad…and…and H-Helen? What are they doing here in the States?”

“Ahoy, Reggie!” The woman on the passenger’s side waved more urgently as she exited the car. “You look simply smashing for someone who’s supposed to be at death’s door.”

Her curvaceous body, balanced precariously above five-inch heels, was ensconced in a dress nearly too tight for movement—but move she did, in a wobbly manner, directly into Reginald’s arms. It was difficult to ascertain whether Reginald returned her greeting and kiss as heartily as she delivered them.

A fine-looking elderly man, obviously Reginald’s dad, stepped from the driver’s seat and solemnly shook hands with his son. Their resemblance was noteworthy, though the father was taller and less muscular than Reginald. Jane remembered hearing that Reginald’s dad had suffered health problems and had retired from his publishing house, but this attractive man looked sound enough.

“Reginald, I dare say you look fit, not in the least what I had anticipated. Your secretary called and suggested you might expire at any moment. Of course when Helen heard that I planned to hasten over here, she agreed to accompany me.”

“Anna called you? I told her not to notify anyone. She must have called when I was unconscious. She can’t comprehend the fact that a secretary’s supposed to follow orders. Well…you’re here now…you may as well stay the night.”

“The night?” Helen shrieked in laughter. “Did you hear that, Wilbur?” She slapped him on the back, and after that Wilbur did look a trifle frail. “My second trip to the States, my first to Florida, and Reggie thinks he can send us back to London without dinner! If there had been a funeral, Reggie, we’d have stayed at least a week to straighten your affairs. Now that matters are looking up, we intend to complicate your life until I satisfy the tourist in me—and anything else too.”

Jane wondered what anything else encompassed. She stood uncomfortably in the background while her anticipated kiss rested on another woman’s lips. Past experience taught her that if a woman called him Reggie—look out! Instantly an unpleasant spasm shot through her memory. This Helen must be the former fiancée she had heard about. The name matched. Jane groaned inwardly and watched Helen cling to Reginald’s arm with a death grip.

Meanwhile, Wilbur studied Reginald’s Cadillac.

“Nice motor car.” Wilbur leaned over and looked in the window.

“It’s not mine, it’s a rental. Mine’s at the airport. Jane and I planned to pick it up after I’d rested my leg for a while. I own a Lincoln.” His smug expression said much.

“You needn’t apologize. Lincolns are satisfactory conveyance. My Cadillac is a rental too. There wasn’t time to ship my Rolls.” He winked at Helen and gave her a knowing smile. Before Reginald could defend his Lincoln, Wilbur stepped up to Jane.

“Reginald is barely functioning in his present condition. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Wilbur Faircloth, Reginald’s father.”

“Jane Pate. I’m…I…I write.” What could she say to this dignified, scholarly version of Reginald? If he had arrived later…much later…she possibly could have claimed a closer friendship with Reginald. “I’m working on b-books for Reg.” She would show them that she had a nickname for Reginald too.

Helen casually turned in her direction.

“I’m Helen Buffington. Reggie and I are old, old friends…you know how it is.” She turned her attention back to Reginald and began to caress his arm possessively.

Jane wanted to ask, “How what is?” but she wasn’t confident she would enjoy the answer. It could be more odious than the heavy scent of Helen’s perfume that wafted toward her uninvited. It didn’t matter anyway, because everyone had again forgotten her existence. It was a convenient time to leave, though she didn’t want Wilbur and Helen to discover she owned the tired compact truck parked over by the trees. It looked worse than usual because José had borrowed it for landscaping work and now dirt spots accompanied the rust spots. Just the same, she drifted casually in its direction.

“Reggie, tell me about your newest wound,” Helen pleaded. “I’ve been dying to hear. Wilbur said a dreadful, big snake bit you, a rattlesnake. How on earth did that happen?”

Reginald grabbed Jane’s wrist before she could escape. There was fiendish glee in his eyes.

“Jane’s snake bit me.”

Helen turned her attention to Jane.

“Your snake bit him? Isn’t that ripping? I had a dog that used to bite him—a poodle. She never cared for Reggie. I named her Poo-poo—because that is all she ever learned how to do, and she…she did it everywhere!” Helen laughed uproariously at her pun before continuing. “What did you call your snake?”

Dumbfounded for a second over the ridiculous turn of the conversation, Jane looked searchingly at Helen. Was she in earnest?

“It didn’t have a name.” She gave Reginald a disdainful...