Bones of a Feather - Carolyn Haines [39]
* * *
An hour later, I’d learned more about the tortured Levert lineage than I ever wanted to know. No one has more interest in family history than a member who’s been shut out. Barclay had devoted endless hours researching Barthelme Levert and his offspring. He was determined to claim his place in the family and demand acceptance, with or without the money. He longed to be part of something from which he’d been denied. Even my cold, hard heart was dented by the cards he’d been dealt.
“The enjoyable thing about Barthelme is that no matter how bad I am, he will always be worse,” Barclay said.
“Now that’s inspirational.” I hoped Cece would heed the warning, but it was clear to see Barclay had captivated her. They shared many of the same wounds—always a dangerous link of compatibility.
What I’d learned in our conversation was that Barclay wasn’t aware Monica was missing. No one in town seemed to be. Based on what I knew of small towns, that wasn’t normal. If word got out that a wealthy heiress—especially one as controversial as Monica, was missing—the talk should be flying.
“I’m going to Briarcliff tomorrow and demand DNA,” Barclay said. “I wanted to wait, hoping to meet my mother and her sister and win them over. But that isn’t happening. I’ll have to force the issue, so I might as well get it done.”
That was a bad idea. The sight of Barclay might unsettle Eleanor to the point she’d reveal too much. Before I could dissuade him, Cece piped up.
“I like a man who knows what he wants and goes after it.” She wasn’t exactly slurring her words, but she was tipsy. She leaned toward Barclay’s shoulder, and he shifted to give her support.
It was time for fresh air, food, and a date with Kissie McClain. Cece wasn’t normally the kind of drinker who let a few rounds lay waste to her. “Let’s go, party girl.” I slipped an arm around her.
Barclay came to my assistance. I was about to tell him I could manage when Cece poked my ribs. I yelped and jumped backward, and she fell completely into his embrace.
“Are you going to faint?” Barclay asked. If he was aware of her ruse, he was too much the gentleman to call her out on it.
“I think I may.” She flung her head back, exposing her long, bare throat.
“Perhaps I can revive you.” Barclay kissed the pulse point in her neck. Cece’s eyes flew wide open. Behind his back, she waved me away.
“I’ll meet you at King’s Tavern,” I said. Far be it from me to stand in the way of true lust. Both Barclay and Cece knew the rules of the game they’d engaged in.
I eased around the table and was walking to the door when it opened on a lanky man in jeans, a Western shirt, boots, and a cowboy hat. Barclay saw him and forgot all about the woman in his arms. He assisted Cece to her feet, but his total focus was on the man. He deposited Cece on a chair and moved toward the cowboy with intent. He stopped when he was almost in the man’s face.
“Who the hell is that?” Cece asked, completely sober. Her arms akimbo, she looked aggravated.
“Hush!” I wanted to hear whatever exchange passed between the men.
“I know what you’re up to,” Barclay said as he squared off, blocking the cowboy’s path. “You are a bastard.”
“I’m gonna send you straight to hell,” the stranger said before he whipped around and left the bar.
“Excuse me, ladies.” Barclay took off in pursuit.
“Who was that?” Cece delicately dabbed at a sheen of perspiration on her forehead.
“I don’t know, but we definitely need to find out.”
We rushed out the door of the bar, but when we got to the street, it was completely empty. Music pulsed in the distance. The slot machines on the riverboat casino docked below us dinged faintly on the humid night. Barclay and the stranger had vanished like spirits on the wind.
9
If the barkeep in Bennator’s knew the strange man, he wasn’t telling, not even when Cece flashed cash in front of him. Barclay never returned, so we drove to King’s Tavern. It was almost time for Kissie’s first set.
Tinkie and I had visited