Bouquet of Lies Part 13

Edward rapped his cane. "Bulls.h.i.t! He thought she was a fool."

Leave it to Edward to put things succinctly. Faith in me? Ha!

"This is not about your a.s.sessment of things." Henderson's expression shut Edward up. Henderson looked at Lacey. "Your father and I had many a discussion about you. He considered you quite capable, but lost. He said he wanted to talk to you about your future, but you weren't mature enough to listen."

He wanted to talk?

"He said if you ever got your s.h.i.t together, his words not mine, there was no telling what you might accomplish. He saw a great deal of himself and his grandmother in you."

He thought about me? He talked about me? Good news travels slow.

"So here's what I'm getting to. There is a caveat which you and Darla need to be aware of. You must start business school within a year of your father's death or the money he left you as well as your shares of stock go to Darla. You must stay in school and you must graduate with nothing lower than a three point seven average."

"Business school," Lacey mumbled, her mind swimming. "Three point seven?"

"There are many colleges with fine programs. I can help you with that," Henderson said.

Everyone was quiet until Darla spoke. "He thought of me as the weak one."

"I'm afraid that's true," the lawyer said matter-of-factly as he adjusted his gla.s.ses. "I'm to serve as trustee of Harper's a.s.sets left to you until you reach the age of twenty-five."

"Twenty-five." Darla frowned.

Edward guffawed. "Like that matters. You have the house. The money my mother rightfully should have left to me. And now it's apparent my own son turned against me." Edward looked like he might explode.

Henderson took it in stride. "Harper naturally a.s.sumed you would pa.s.s first. But he was a man of foresight and did make a provision for you. Fifty thousand a year for the rest of your life."

"Despicable. What a paltry sum!"

"And health care coverage."

"With fifty thousand I can hire my own lawyer-"

"Contest it, you get nothing." Henderson's eyes were locked on Edward. "Believe me, it is all ironclad and proper. I drew it up and I know what I'm doing."

Ironclad. Business school. I have to go to business school? Three point seven! The thoughts tumbled over and over in Lacey's mind until she suddenly caught the minister's words.

"He was a man of vision."

He sounds like Henderson. She put a hand on her forehead. Her father had faith in her? How much did she have in herself?

It came time for people to speak and Edward made the first move. He hobbled toward the podium and fell. Three people rushed to his aid and he thanked them profusely. It all looked calculated to Lacey.

"You'll forgive an old man with raging arthritis." He offered a pitiful smile.

Raging alcoholism, maybe, Lacey thought. What's going on, Edward?

"My son was a great man. I always knew he would be. I think it's common knowledge I raised him on my own."

Great Grandmama Harriet would beg to differ.

"And it was a pleasure. From the time he was small, he was industrious. Always thinking in terms of business. I hate to admit it, but I was never able to be the breadwinner for my family. Yes, for good reason. Because of my health."

Health reasons? Lacey almost laughed out loud. Someone in the back did burst out with a "Ha." It sounded like Courtney.

"But the shame that comes with that can be unbearable. Admirably, it never bothered my son. He took the financial reins. He took care of me. A father and son could not have been closer." Edward squeezed his eyes together in counterfeit grief and paused. "He was my son. He never expected to die first. So now it will be up to the daughters he raised, the daughters who lacked for nothing . . ."

Except parental affection.

"To care for a penniless grandfather. Harper." He looked skyward. "I hope they make you proud, selfish creatures that they are." He kissed two fingers and raised them as if offering the kiss to Harper.

Now she got it. Edward was polite all week because he was at their mercy. Funny. It never occurred to her to throw him out. That she could if she wanted to, made her smile for the first time since Harper's death.

Business a.s.sociates spoke next. They told funny anecdotes.

"He had the driest sense of humor. No matter what woman he was dating . . ."

Dating? Daddy had a love life? He certainly never brought anyone home.

"He always told the same joke. 'I answered an ad in the personals. Buxom brunette. Five-foot-seven. One hundred twenty-five pounds. Successful in business. No children. Enjoys travel and pampering her man. Seeks similar qualities in a partner for as long as the good times last. Golfers need not apply.'" The church rippled with laughter. "So, of course, Mr. Sixteen Handicap answered the ad." More laughter.

It seemed like everyone had something to say: "I remember the time . . ." "He was always . . ." "We had dinner together at least once a month . . ."

The stories kept coming and Lacey realized all these people knew her father better than she did.

Randy Barber stepped to the podium. Harper's golden boy. What in the world did he have to say?

"My first day of work, I witnessed Harper Bouquet fire a guy. We were in a meeting and I was giving a presentation. Yes. My first day of work I was giving a presentation. That was Harper. He gave me an a.s.signment the day he hired me and told me to come ready. I came ready. So I'm explaining a strategy I believed the company could use to overtake the compet.i.tion, a compet.i.tor Bouquet had never bested, and I'm interrupted. Someone trying to impress the boss started offering obstructions to my plan. 'You know,' said Harper, 'the one who says it can't be done should never interrupt the one who's doing it. That's all I ever see you do. Go pack up your desk. See if you can handle that.' Now, that may sound a bit theatrical. But here's my point."

Randy's eyes focused on Darla.

"Have confidence. If there is something needed, know it can be accomplished. That's what Harper believed and I believe it too."

He walked away from the microphone, squeezed Edward's hands first and spoke, "I'm sorry for your loss." He came to Lacey and with deeply sincere eyes, squeezed her hands but said nothing. He went to Darla, took her hands and bent in close, but Lacey could still hear. "I know he believed in you. He told me so."

Lacey accepted condolences from those who gathered in the church social hall following the service until she thought her hands and cheeks would fall off.

Five minutes into the gathering Edward muttered something unpleasant in her ear about not having had the reception at the country club and cut out. Thirty minutes after that, girlfriend Courtney apologized for having to go early and left as well.

People roamed with plates of food or they chatted at tables. A slide show of Harper on the job and on the golf course played in the background and was mostly ignored. Aptly, it had no photos of Harper with his children. Lacey decided someone at Bouquet Industries had pieced it together and a.s.sumed Harper had no home life which was basically true.

She took a chair beside Jake at a table and leaned her head on his shoulder.

"How you holding up there, Miss Priss?" He bit into a sandwich and brushed some breadcrumbs from his lap.

"I'm tired. My feet hurt. We should get Darla and go home."

"Darla's gone."

"What?" She had been so busy accepting everyone's "I'm sorry for your loss" that she'd just a.s.sumed Darla was holed up in some corner staying out of sight. "Well. Who took her?"

"Who do you think?"

A name immediately popped into her head. "Randy Barber."

"I guess that's his name. If you ask me, he's trying to sweep Darla off her feet."

Lacey stopped leaning and looked at him. "And how do you feel about that?"

"Me? It's none of my business."

"Uh-huh."

"I did think that little story he told was over the top. It was more about himself than Harper."

"It was about Darla."

"What?"

"Yeah. The 'have confidence.' He was looking right at her."

"I guess I couldn't tell from the back." Jake examined what was left of the sandwich. "He seems like a bit of an ego head. You think he's good for her?"

"I think you're good for her."

Jake suppressed a smile. "Nah. I'm too old. She's a baby."

"Randy's older than you are."

"Hmm." Jake popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and swallowed it.

"Better make your move before you lose her."

His jaw slacked and he shook his head. "She has walls up. Only lets me get so close. Looks like this Randy guy's already in. Can't say I really trust him, but . . ."

"But what?"

"But, I don't know. If he's helping her grow up, that's a good thing. I hope I'm wrong about him."

"See. That's why you're good for her. You put her welfare ahead of your own."

He made a face, but didn't protest. "You wanna go?"

She scanned the room. No Dan. The part of her that had held out hope he'd show accepted reality. Yes, she wanted to go.

Fourteen.

SEATED AT HIS kitchen table, Dan stared at the phone. Friday night. Harper Bouquet's memorial had been today. He could have taken time off to attend, but chose not to. Now he felt guilty. Should he call Lacey and say he was sorry he missed it?

His finger tapped the phone. How was she holding up? That night in the kitchen his heart had ached for her. He had wanted to comfort her, help her get through it. But look what he'd done. Completely stayed away.

Shaking his head, his hand withdrew. He wouldn't call. He'd be sending a mixed message. That she mattered to him when she didn't. That her life was any of his business when it wasn't. That . . .

She did matter to him.

He let go of a sigh and looked up at the ceiling. This girl had him so confused. He had never been this befuddled in his life.

The phone rang and immediately he hoped it was Lacey.

It wasn't. He heard his uncle on the other end. "How you doing there? Haven't talked to you in a while."

"Working. You know." Dan tried to keep the disappointment he felt out of his voice.

"Thought I'd see you at the memorial service. Thought you'd be there with your girlfriend."

Girlfriend. Right.

"I had to work."

"Well, I know about having to work. In fact, that's why I called. We're not going to make it for dinner on Sunday."

Sunday dinner had completely slipped Dan's mind. "That's not a problem. It was just going to be hamburgers anyway."

"And I love hamburgers."

"Better than my gourmet?" Dan smiled. "So what's happening Sunday?"

"Working. A bit of overtime. Haven't found the thread yet that's going to unravel this thing."

"Harper's murder?"

"Got some theories brewing. And people I want to interview."

"Who?"

"Oh, I can't talk about that."

Dan nodded. Homicide cops weren't supposed to share information except for what they told reporters, which was only what the bra.s.s wanted the public to know. The story that ran in the paper about Harper's murder had been mostly highlights of his life.

After they hung up Dan wanted to talk to Lacey more than ever. It didn't sound like Uncle Carrick had made much headway. Lacey had to be wondering what was going on. Of course, there really wasn't anything he could tell her.

The phone rang again. This time Murray's voice came through.