First Impressions (Edenton 1)

She didn’t stop staring at him or lose her train of thought. He was just too relaxed about all this for her taste. “What do you want? And how can I believe that you didn’t send those men into the house?” She had the satisfaction of seeing him blink rapidly three times.

“I truly believe that the information I want is inside your head, not hidden away inside your house, so why should I send ransackers?”

“Does that mean that you’ve already been through every inch of my house and know there’s nothing to find?”

“More or less,” he said, putting the jar back on the shelf and giving her a crooked grin. “But I didn’t get to see all that I wanted to because I was attacked by a wildcat.”

“I see that you recovered well enough. Where’s your sling?”

He didn’t answer but went to the side wall and pulled four boxes out onto the floor. They were boxes full of big canning jars, and when stacked on top of one another, they made uncomfortable seats. He took one and motioned to Eden to take the other. After she’d moved her two boxes to the opposite wall, far away from him, she sat down.

“I don’t know any spy and I have no idea why your spy would be interested in me,” she said in the tone of a person who knew that a long night was coming. She wasn’t sure if he’d set this up or not, but she had her suspicions. It wouldn’t surprise her to be told that help would arrive only after she’d told him what he wanted to know—which she’d do in an instant if she only knew what it was. “Did you check out whether or not he was writing a book?”

“We’re looking into it now. Are you warm enough?” He listened for a moment but could hear nothing.

“It’s silent down here,” Eden said. “You can’t hear anything except what’s going on on top of you. If I was going to be down here for more than fifteen minutes I had to get someone to watch my daughter. I wouldn’t be able to hear her clearly, even if she was just in the dining room. Maybe you should call again. Are you sure they’re sending someone for us?”

He looked at his watch. “It’s only been ten minutes. You have somewhere you need to be?”

“Since you’ve listened in on my every conversation, you know that I’m meeting Brad at ten.”

“Brad? The lawyer? Braddon Granville? Who names their kid Braddon?”

“I have no intention of explaining Arundel baby-naming policies to you. If we make chitchat you’re never going to find out what you want to know. If you have questions to ask me, then do it.”

“I would if I knew where to start. I was hoping that if I showed you Applegate’s photo you’d say, ‘Oh, that’s so and so,’ and the mystery would be solved. Are you sure you’ve never seen him before?”

“As I told you, I don’t remember if I have seen him. I co

uld have met him, yes, but then I’m an editor, so I meet thousands of people. When I go to writers’ conferences I meet hundreds of people—quickly. He could have been in one of those three-minute sessions where an author presents his ideas to me. I really don’t remember him.”

Jared looked at his shoe tips for a moment. “What you’re saying makes sense, and maybe that’s all this is about. Maybe the whole mystery is that Applegate was about to turn in a manuscript that told everything about everybody. You would have remembered a manuscript about a spy, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, and I would have turned it over to a nonfiction editor.”

“Maybe you haven’t come across the book yet.” There was hope in Jared’s voice.

“Maybe you should contact my publishing house and—” She broke off at a loud noise that came from upstairs.

Jared was on his feet in an instant, looking up at the ceiling of the cellar. In the next moment, they heard another noise, then silence.

Eden was standing beside him. “I hope they aren’t destroying the house, and I really hope they didn’t knock over the big secretary in the hall.”

“Those were shots,” he said, frowning. He ran up the stairs and tried the door. Locked. For a moment he looked as though he was studying the door, then he went back down. He opened his cell phone again and made another call. This time Eden realized that he was talking to a message machine. Again, he was calm, just saying that they were ready to get out.

“Nobody home?” she said, sitting back down. “That gives me great confidence in the FBI. Aren’t they supposed to always be on the alert? How come you don’t have a firearm on you?”

“I figured you’d find it and use it on me,” Jared said absently. He seemed to be thinking hard about something. “Is there any reason other than whatever the spy wanted you for that people would be ransacking your house?”

Eden gave a sigh. “Those blasted jewels!”

“Jewels?” Jared asked as he sat back down, then said, “Oh, yeah. In the book. You know, I didn’t have time last night to read that, so why don’t you tell me about it?”

“You don’t think that spy was searching for those jewels, do you?”

“I have no idea. Could have been. We’ve always thought that maybe he swallowed your name to keep you from being thought to be part of his professional life.” He leaned his head back against the damp wall. “So tell me about the jewels.”

“How about if I tell you the truth?”