Grace laughed. “Now that’s true love. Moira won’t even let me try to cook. She says I break too many dishes. Five years ago, right before that last big party we had for all Moira’s clients on Thanksgiving, or maybe it was Halloween, I really can’t remember which, I had all the china sitting out on the counter, two dozen salad bowls and two dozen plates and two dozen cups and saucers in that wonderful old-fashioned gold leaf design and I reached for the silver coffeepot and . . .” Grace cut herself off in midsentence and turned to look at Moira in alarm. “Why aren’t you stopping me, Moira? I know I’m babbling.”
“I was waiting to see how long you’d go on.” Moira reached for Grace’s hand under the table and squeezed it, and then she turned to the rest of the group. “Gracie’s impossible in the kitchen. I don’t see how she can be so graceful on the stage and such a total fu . . . klutz in the kitchen.”
Jayne glanced at the clock on the wall and frowned. “Do you think I should go down to check on Clayton and Rachael? They’re over an hour late.”
“I will go also, Jayne.” Paul stood up and bowed. “Excuse me. And please to hold down the rampart until we return.”
“It’s hold down the fort,” Jayne corrected automatically. “Better make some more coffee, Ellen. I think I drank that whole pot all by myself.”
Jayne frowned as they got into the elevator. “Better stop at our place, honey, just in case. Rachael gave me a key when they delivered the new dishwasher and I think I still have it.”
“They purchased a new dishwasher?” Paul looked surprised. “The one they had was under warranty.”
“I know, but Rachael bought a whole bunch of new glasses that wouldn’t fit in the rack so they traded it in for a different model. Hold the elevator. I’ll be right back.”
When they got down to the fifth floor, Paul rang the doorbell repeatedly with no result. “I am not sure that we should use the key, Jayne. It is an invasion of their privacy.”
“Oh fiddlesticks! They won’t mind. Come on, Paul. Let’s roust them out of bed.”
The apartment was silent as Jayne and Paul walked from room to room. The bed looked as if it had been slept in, but Rachael and Clayton were nowhere in sight.
Paul was clearly unsettled by the sight of the deserted rooms. “This is very curious. Where could they be?”
“Uh, oh.” Jayne rushed to the hall closet and looked inside. “Their coats are gone and so are their boots. Remember how Clayton was so hot to take the snowmobile last night? I think we’d better check to see if it’s still here.”
Several minutes later, they had their answer as they stared at the empty spot where Paul had parked the Arctic Cat. There was nothing to do but go back to the spa.
Everyone was stunned, most of all Grace. “I can’t believe that Rachael would let him start out on the thing in the dead of night.”
“Well, that’s exactly what they did.” Jayne gave a rueful laugh. “I swear, Clay doesn’t have the brains that God gave a barrel cactus!”
“Maybe they waited until morning,” Marc suggested. “It wouldn’t be as dangerous in the sunlight.”
Laureen shook her head. “I know for a fact they left before daybreak. I got up at six-thirty to start the quiche and I would have heard them.”
There was a long, tense silence while everyone imagined the worst. Then Ellen spoke up. “There was plenty of light last night. It was a full moon. I saw it from the Jacuzzi.”
“What were you doing in the Jacuzzi in the middle of the night?” Vanessa wanted to know.
“I couldn’t sleep. Too much excitement, I guess. So Walker and I went up there to enjoy the view.”
Vanessa looked shocked. “Really, Ellen! You went up to the Jacuzzi in the middle of the night with a . . .”
Hal clamped his hand over Vanessa’s mouth. “Sorry about that. So what shall we do about Clayton and Rachael?”
“I don’t know that we can do anything.” Marc shrugged. “They took off with our only means of transportation. I guess we just have to hope that they got through all right.”
It was seven in the evening when they finished packing the things in Johnny’s kitchen. Laureen glanced down and groaned. “That’s enough work for today. Just look at my hands! They’re black from all the newsprint.”
“Not as black as . . .”
Hal clamped his hand over Vanessa’s mouth, a gesture that had become pure reflex. “I think I’ll stay and finish a couple more boxes. It’s too early to go to bed.”
“How about a game of charades?” Grace rose to her feet from a cross-legged position and stretched.
“We could play at our place,” Moira chimed in. She loved charades. “Are you up for a game, Ellen?”
Ellen nodded. “I’m terrible at charades, but I’ll play anyway. Walker?”
“Sure. How about you, Jayne?”
Jayne hesitated. There was something bothersome about Clayton and Rachael’s disappearance, but she couldn’t put her finger on what it was.
“Come, Jayne.” Paul squeezed her shoulder. “You have always enjoyed the charades.”
Reluctantly, Jayne nodded. There would be time to think about Clayton and Rachael later. “All right. I’ll play if Hal’s on my team. He always guesses the ones I have to act out.”
“You want me?” Hal looked surprised. “The last time we played, you said I didn’t have the brains that God gave little green apples.”
“That was only a figure of speech, so don’t get your underwear in a bunch. Are you playing, Vanessa?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Is Laureen bringing brownies?”
Laureen began to smile. Vanessa loved her brownies and it was a perfect way of getting back at her. “Nope. I’ve only got one batch left in the freezer and I’m saving those for Alan.”
“In that case, I’ll pass.” Vanessa got up and yawned. “All this packing has given me a headache. I’m going to sit in the Jacuzzi for a while and then I’m going to bed.”
Hal couldn’t resist a parting shot. “What’s the matter, Vanessa? Afraid we’ll all find out what a lousy actress you are?”
Vanessa turned to give him a withering glance. “I told you, Hal, I have a headache. And don’t wake me when you come in. Not that you’d have any reason to.”
Everyone was silent until Vanessa had left. Then Grace broke the awkward moment.
“Hal? I know I’m butting my nose in, but why don’t you two just split up? You fight all the time.”
Hal nodded. “It’s complicated, Grace, but the bottom line is we can’t.”
“You can’t get a divorce?” Moira raised her eyebrows. “Come on, Hal. You certainly have enough grounds.”
Hal gave a bitter laugh. “Don’t I know! But I did a really stupid thing when we got married.”
“Don’t tell me.” Grace sighed. “You forgot to have her sign a prenuptial agreement?”
“No, I’m not quite that stupid. She signed one. I drew it up myself.”
“Uh, oh.” Marc groaned. “What did it say, Hal?”
“It said that if she filed for divorce, she’d end up with nothing but a small monthly allowance.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Absolutely nothing. But I neglected to put in what happens if I’m the one to file for divorce. And since I didn’t stipulate otherwise, the Nevada divorce laws apply.”
“I get it.” Marc nodded. “If you’re the one to file for divorce, Vanessa gets half of everything you earned during your marriage.”
Hal nodded. “And you all know I’ve made a lot of money since then. Naturally, Vanessa won’t file for divorce. And I can’t file either. So here we are, stuck together like glue, and there’s not a damn thing either one of us can do about it.”
Laureen gave a deep sigh. She finally understood why Hal hadn’t done anything drastic when she’d told him about Vanessa’s affair with Alan. “Well, don’t let it get to you, Hal. If she keeps on being so obnoxious, maybe somebody’ll help you get rid of her permanently.”