Bones of a Feather - Carolyn Haines [75]
“So I’ve heard.” Barclay winked at me, which made me want to smack him upside the head. I was sure he’d sampled Kissie’s baking skills as well as many others.
“What are you doing here?” I wasn’t in a mood to flirt or banter.
“I have the DNA results.”
“What, you have an inside track at a crime lab? No one gets results so fast.”
Barclay chuckled softly and pushed a strand of my hair out of my eyes. “You’re something of a grump in the morning, aren’t you, Sarah Booth?”
“When she doesn’t get her seven hours sleep, she’s a gorgon,” Tinkie said.
“Like I ever get seven hours of sleep.” I glared from one to the other. “Why are you so damn perky, Tinkie? And what are you doing here before the sun even clears the horizon, Barclay?”
“I thought I might move my things here.” Barclay pushed in the foyer, drinking in the elegance of the house and the furnishings. “I grow weary of rented rooms and the kindness of strangers. I’m ready to come home, and this place is even better than I imagined.”
“So the test results prove you’re a Levert?” In this instance, one plus one resulted in baby Barclay Levert. He not only looked the part, he was beginning to sound like landed aristocracy.
“Monica is my mother. I have the evidence I need. A lab in Jackson performed the test. The results are indisputable. As they say on all the crime shows, DNA doesn’t lie.” There was almost a challenge in his attitude, as if I wouldn’t believe him. Before I could respond, Eleanor’s stern voice came from the stairs.
“You might have a blood test, but you don’t have permission to be in Briarcliff. Monica is the only person who can offer you a place here.”
Eleanor descended the stairs in an old-fashioned satin robe cinched at her slender waist. It fell around her with a swirl of shining fabric. With her dark hair tousled from sleep and in disarray, she looked as if she’d awakened from a time past. The beautiful chocolate color of the dressing gown heightened her penetrating gaze. The resemblance between Eleanor and Barclay was clear. They could as easily be mother and son as aunt and nephew.
“Where is my loving mother?” Barclay asked. “I would think she’d be on pins and needles to meet her boy. Our parting was so abrupt and unexpected.” He turned his palms up. “Poof. Like magic. How can a boy resist a mother who performs magic?” Irony laced his tone.
Eleanor was in his face in a flash. She drew her hand back to slap him. Only Barclay’s quick reflexes saved his cheek.
“I’d planned to call you here to help me, but I see my judgment was clouded. What have you done with my sister?” Eleanor said through gritted teeth.
Barclay held her wrist. Stepping close, he forced her back to arch away from him. “What, exactly, are you accusing me of, my dearest Aunt Eleanor?” He, too, spoke through his teeth.
“Stop it!” I punched Barclay’s arm and he released her. Eleanor stepped back and rubbed her wrist. “Have you both lost your minds?” The Leverts provoked questions to which there was no simple answer.
“Where’s Monica?” Eleanor was almost breathless with rage.
The confusion on Barclay’s face seemed genuine, but I’d been duped before by a handsome face. “How should I know where Monica is? She’s not in the habit of communicating her whereabouts to me. Let’s see, the last she spoke to me or my father was to say she was going for a pack of cigarettes, or something to that effect. That was, what, thirty-five years ago?”
“Stop it.” Eleanor’s eyes flashed danger. “Stop mocking Monica.”
“Defensive of Mom, are you? I always dreamt of having a mother I was proud to defend. Life has its disappointments, though. I get a mother who is indefensible.”
Although we didn’t physically move, Tinkie and I eased into the background. This was family turf, a place where we had no standing. Barclay was angry, and he had every right to be. Eleanor was protective, a role she’d obviously played