I've Got You Under My Skin

64

Jane went straight from the interview to the kitchen. She had already prepared vichyssoise, a Waldorf salad, and cold sliced ham for lunch.

Robert Powell entered the kitchen a few minutes later. “Jane, I’ve been thinking. It’s quite warm out. Let’s eat in the dining room. How many do we have for lunch today?”

Jane could see that his mood was much brighter than it had been in the morning. He was wearing a light blue sport shirt and khaki slacks. His full head of white hair complemented his handsome face. His straight carriage belied his chronological age.

He doesn’t look anything like his age, Jane thought. He’s always looked like an English lord.

Lord and Lady Powell.

What had he asked her? Of course, how many would be at lunch today.

“The four graduates,” Jane hesitated. “That’s the way I still think of them. Ms. Moran, Mrs. Craig, Mr. Rod Kimball, Mr. Alex Buckley, and yourself, sir.”

“The lucky nine,” Rob Powell said cheerfully. “Or a motley crew. Which is it, Jane?”

Without waiting for an answer, he opened the patio door and went outside.

What’s gotten into him? Jane asked herself. This morning it seemed like all he wanted was to get them out of the house. Perhaps knowing that they’ll be on their way tomorrow is making him feel good. I don’t know what the others said in their interviews, but I know I came off fine.

Filled with self-satisfaction, she began to set the table in the dining room.

Josh appeared in the doorway. “I’ll finish that,” he said angrily. “You get the food out.”

Jane looked at him, surprised. “What’s the matter with you?” she asked.

“The matter with me is that I’m not a houseboy,” Josh snapped.

Jane had just begun placing the silverware on the table. Startled, she straightened up. Her cheeks flushed, her lips tight, she spat out the words, “For the kind of salary you get, you have some nerve to talk like that about helping out in the house for a few days. Be careful. Be very careful. If Mr. Powell had heard you, you’d have been out the door in a minute. If I report this conversation to him, the same thing would happen.”

“Well, listen to the lady of the house,” Josh snapped defiantly. “Whatever became of all the jewelry George Curtis gave Betsy? Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about. When Mr. Rob was on business trips, I used to drive Betsy to her trysts with George Curtis, and she’d be lit up like a Christmas tree when I took her to meet him. I know she kept it hidden in her room somewhere, but I never heard any mention of it being found. If there’s one thing I’m sure of, Mr. Rob Powell had no idea that affair was going on.”

“You don’t know what you’re sure of,” Jane whispered fiercely. “So why don’t we both agree to keep our mouths shut? Tomorrow at this time they’ll all be on their way.”

“One last thought, Jane. If Betsy had left Powell for George Curtis, she’d have taken you with her, for two good reasons. First, because you waited on her hand and foot. Second, because once she moved out of here and asked Powell for a divorce, he’d have hired private detectives to find out how long that affair had been going on and discovered that you covered for Betsy when he called her from overseas every time he was away on a business trip.”

“And what do you think he’d have done to you if he knew you were driving her back and forth to her little love nest in his Bentley?” Jane asked, her voice almost a whisper.

They glared at each other from across the table, then Jane said in a pleasant voice, “We’d better get moving. They were told that lunch would be served at one-thirty.”

After Alison fled from the den, Alex and Laurie did not speak until Jerry, Grace, and the camera crew were gone.

Then Alex said quietly, “Two of our graduates have now given a worldwide audience a convincing reason why one of them might have killed Betsy Powell.”

“They absolutely did,” Laurie said. “And who knows what Regina and Nina will have to say this afternoon? I would be surprised if all four of them don’t bitterly regret getting involved in this program, even for the money.”

“I’m sure they already do,” Alex agreed.

“Alex, why do you think Powell insisted we all stay here tonight-and that we don’t interview him until tomorrow morning?”

“Building up the pressure on all of them, hoping one of them will crack? You and I will be the chief witnesses, if that happens,” Alex replied briskly. “My guess is that he’s bluffing.” He looked at his watch. “I’d better call my office. We’re due inside in fifteen minutes.”

“And I’m going to try my dad.”

Alex sat back in the chair, pretending to look for something in his briefcase.

He wanted to be here for Laurie if Leo Farley did not-or could not-answer the phone.