5. Chapter 5 #2
“Why does it matter which side the fountain is on?” Jack asked.
“According to feng shui, the fountain should always be on the left. It encourages fidelity.”
He shook his head. “No way. People make their own choices and fountain placement has nothing to do with it.”
I shrugged. “You might be right. But if a person knows about this principle and chooses to put their fountain on the left, it might be a good reminder of their commitment.”
“I’ll give you that. But what if they don’t know about it? Are you telling me it still influences their actions?”
“I’m not saying it would make someone cheat.” I pushed the door of the house open. “But I also don’t claim to understand all magic.”
He grinned. “Look at that humility coming from Caroline Bingley. Don’t worry, I won’t tell anybody.”
I batted his arm playfully and walked into the front entry hall. Tables with the contents of somebody’s life proudly lined the space.
“What is this, a fancy garage sale?” Jack asked.
“Haven’t you ever been to an estate sale? It’s my absolute favorite way to shop. I love seeing the collections people have accumulated over their lifetime. And it’s a great way to find interesting items.”
He nodded thoughtfully and followed me closely as I ambled through the house, his eyes constantly scanning the room for signs of trouble.
I picked up a few beautiful glass candy dishes and a lovely handmade quilt, keeping one eye out for Mr. McFarland as I went.
I found him eyeing a room full of mid-century modern furniture. I settled into a cognac leather Eames chair he was looking at and crossed my legs casually. “Hello, Mr. McFarland.”
“Good morning, Miss Bingley. Please, call me Reggie.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes.
“I didn’t get a chance to tell you goodbye last night, you rushed out of the party too quickly and missed the big reveal.”
His eyes flicked from me to Jack and back again. “Rumor has it the reveal had an unexpected twist.”
“It certainly did.” I leaned forward in the chair. “Why would you want me dead?”
“Want you dead?” He shook his head. “It’s always about you, isn’t it? How about you give me back my mirror before someone else gets hurt.”
I blinked. “You don’t have the mirror?”
His face twisted in anger. “You lost it?” He advanced toward me but Jack stepped forward, putting a hand on Mr. McFarland’s shoulder.
“Whatever you were thinking of doing,” Jack said in a low voice, “I would advise against it.”
McFarland shook off Jack’s hand and shot one more glare at me before walking the other way.
“Do you believe him?” Jack asked, reaching out a hand to help me stand.
I frowned. “I don’t think he has the mirror, but he’s definitely the killer. I just need to figure out how to prove it.”
“Then who would have taken it?”
“I don’t know. But I’m going to find out.
” I wandered through a few more rooms, Jack following on high alert.
I added a little Baroque statuette of a chubby Pegasus to my growing pile.
It was just on the winning side of the battle between charming and tacky and I had the feeling Mrs. Ponvale would love it.
I eyed Jack, about to ask him to carry my things but he shook his head. “I need to keep my hands free,” he said. “I’m here for you, not for the shopping.”
It was an effort to hide my pleased smile.
A young, Unmarked woman wrapped my purchases in brown paper and put them in a bag for me. I tried not to wince as she told me the total. I had enough to cover my purchases, but money was getting tight. The sooner I built up my clientele, the better.
We shopped for the next couple hours. Or I shopped.
Jack followed me around and glared at people who whispered behind their hands.
I was too stubborn to glamour a disguise for myself so I let them see me and judge.
But I was grateful for his presence by my side as he followed me around dutifully and without complaint.
The sun was high in the sky by the time we headed back toward the ferry.
We paused at a busy intersection in front of the docks and waited for a break in traffic. I braced myself against the pain of my blistered feet that would surely come when we ran across the street.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone hurrying toward us.
I couldn’t be sure, but it looked like the guy in the powder-blue car from the other day.
Was he following me again? I turned to tell Jack, but before I could get a word out, he scooped me up into his arms, one arm under my knees and the other around my back.
I wrapped one arm around his neck to steady myself as he hurried across the street, my other hand holding my bags to my chest.
“Is carrying me really necessary?” I sputtered.
“I can see how much your feet are hurting you. And my job is to protect you from harm. Which apparently extends to self-imposed suffering from impractical footwear.”
“How could you tell that my feet were killing me? I’m very good at hiding it.”
“I’m very good at noticing.”
My stomach flipped at his words, which was ridiculous. I was absolutely, under no circumstances, going to fall for my bodyguard.
“Besides,” he said, heading toward the ferry, “any reasonable person would take one look at those heels and know that you’d be in pain before long.”
I tossed my hair, which coincidentally brushed his neck as I did so, and I swear goosebumps broke out on his skin. When I turned to look back, the guy was gone. Or maybe I had only imagined him.
The ferry was less crowded than before, and I claimed a spot at the railing. Jack stood behind me, not quite touching my back, though I wished he would. I told myself it was because I’d be warmer that way. His muscular frame blocked some of the salty wind.
A few minutes into the return trip, a disturbance erupted a few yards away from us— scuffling and shouting. I turned toward the noise. A twenty-something boy with a collegiate baseball cap waved something over the head of a pretty girl with long blonde hair.
I pushed closer to get a better look, and Jack followed closely. I elbowed a tall man out of my way and the object of the scuffle came into view. It was a Gucci bag, a Jackie 1961.
“Give it back,” the girl pleaded. “You’re going to drop it.”
Her outfit was well put together, but none of the pieces were of particularly high quality. She must have either received the bag as a gift or saved up for it for a long time, and it was clear that it was important to her.
The boy dangled it over the edge of the water. “What will you give me to get back the purse?” He’d turned his baseball cap backward and wore the expression of a guy who was used to getting a pass for pushing the limits of what a girl was comfortable with.
Seeing red, I stepped forward to tell the boy off, but the ferry lurched as a large wave hit the side and the boy teetered before losing his balance and crashing into the railing.
The girl let out a strangled cry as the bag fell thirty feet into the sea.
That cry pierced my self-centered heart.
Jack was going to be very unhappy with me in a moment, but it couldn’t be helped.
Luckily, the matching turquoise bra and underwear I’d chosen this morning wasn’t too far off from a bikini.
I tugged my dress over my head in one smooth movement and tossed it to him.
He froze in shock as I expected he would, which gave me just enough time to dive off the edge of the ferry and into the freezing water.