Shadows At Sunset - Anne Stuart [71]
“And I don’t believe you,” Rachel-Ann returned. “Where do you go when things get too much for you? Drugs, alcohol, sex? Come on, don’t be shy! Dean’s arranged this little party so we can get to know each other better. After all, we’re living in each others’ back pockets—we might as well know what we’re up against. What’s your drug of choice, Coltrane?”
“Revenge.” The reply was short, simple and faintly chilling.
Even Rachel-Ann looked taken aback. “Now how healthy is that, I ask you? And who are you wanting revenge on?”
“Anyone who’s wronged me and mine.”
“Me and mine?” Rachel-Ann echoed. “How wonderfully feudal. What fair damsel are you defending? Whose honor was besmirched?” She was mocking him, and Jilly wanted to stop her. There was an odd tension in the room, one that Rachel-Ann was ignoring, but even Roofus was whining slightly, upset at the undercurrents.
“My mother,” Coltrane said softly.
Rachel-Ann’s eyes widened, and she was momentarily silenced. Long enough for Jilly to jump into the breach, willing to do anything to change the subject. “What did you do today, Rachel-Ann? You were out late last night.”
Wrong distraction, Jilly thought the moment the words were out of her mouth. It would sound as if she were cross-examining her sister, and that was the last thing she wanted. It didn’t matter if she knew where Rachel-Ann was or not. She couldn’t stop her from doing what she wanted to do, and knowing only made it worse.
A brief, almost girlish smile crossed her sister’s face, and then vanished, as if she were ashamed of it. “Sorry if you were worried. I spent the night with…an old friend.”
“I didn’t think you had any old friends, darling,” Dean said, setting a tray of drinks on the table. “I thought they either dropped you cold or succumbed to ODs.”
“Don’t be a pest, Dean,” Rachel-Ann said lightly. “I’m in a good mood for a change—don’t mess with it. By the way, does anyone know what happened to Consuelo and Jaime?”
“Grandmère’s cook and chauffeur?” Dean said. “I remember Jackson fired them without any warning when we were staying here. I think Jaime died of a heart attack a few years ago, but Consuelo retired and is living in the Valley. I forget—did they have children?”
“A son,” Jilly said. She watched with fascination as a faint stain of color tinged her sister’s pale cheeks. “I don’t know what happened to him—I think his name was Richard.”
Rachel-Ann shrugged in a fine show of disinterest. “It doesn’t matter. I was just thinking about Consuelo. She made the best huevos rancheros in the world.”
“The very thought of eggs and chili in the morning makes me want to hurl,” Dean said.
“Actually it’s not as bad as you might think,” Rachel-Ann murmured.
“Am I to presume you had huevos rancheros for breakfast after your night of debauchery?” Dean said with his usual lack of tact.
“I’m afraid my night was totally free of debauchery,” she replied with surprising dignity. “Hate to disappoint you, brother dear.”
“No disappointment, love,” Dean said softly. For all his petty malice Jilly had no doubt that he truly loved both his sisters, almost as much as he loved himself.
And this little get-together would be just lovely if it weren’t for the interloper sitting at the other end of the sofa, watching them as a scientist would watch mating cockroaches.
There was a definite limit to how long she was going to manage to sit here being sociable, Jilly thought. She’d told herself she wouldn’t run, wouldn’t let Coltrane drive her from her home and family, but that was when she’d been fool enough to think she had some defenses left. All it had taken was a few moments in his presence and she realized just how vulnerable she was.
“When’s dinner?” she asked abruptly.
Dean frowned at her. “Were you thinking you might change out of that nouveau hobo apparel into something a little more flattering?”
“No, I was thinking I had things to do.”
“They can wait,” Dean said, taking a sip of his wine. “Aren’t you interested in what the rest of us did to spend the day? Isn’t that how a happy