“You really are beet red. I apologize if I gave you the idea that I was thinking...something...that I shouldn't have been thinking," she added hastily. "Rex told me about the snakes." She shuddered. "Ugh. I know they're harmless snakes--and I would have been in a tizzy, too, I assure you."
"Thanks," Alexi said, a little huskily. And before she really thought she murmured, “Rex told you--the truth?"
"Oh, he can be a pill, can't he?" She shook her head, but then it was clear to Alexi that Emily's affection for him rose to the fore. "But he's really very ethical." Emily laughed. "Honestly. He can be hard--but he does play up-front, and he's a strangely principled man. For this day and age, anyway," she added with a soft sigh. "Oh, here I am, going on and on, when your food is nice and hot. I'll bring it out--"
"Oh, no, please don't bother! I can get to the kitchen with no problem, really. I have to start walking. I have a lot of things to do."
"Let me help you."
Alexi protested; Emily insisted. They walked back to the kitchen, Alexi learning to put a little more weight on her foot with each movement.
Emily sat down with her, sharing the omelet that Rex had left behind. Alexi found out that Emily was a widow with four grown children. She also learned that Emily counted Rex as an adopted fifth child--and adored him with a fierce loyalty.
There was something about Emily, she reflected. The woman was warm and open and giving, and Alexi found herself trying to explain what she wanted to do. It began when Emily asked her why on earth she would want to leave modeling.
Alexi smiled, then laughed. "It's a miserable profession, that's why. People poke at you and prod at you for hours for a 'perfect' look. It's hour after hour under hot lights doing the same thing over and over again. But still, it isn't really that I'm trying to leave modeling." She hesitated, smiled ruefully, and stumbled into a lengthier explanation. "It's strange; I did come from money. But there's always been a golden rule in the family: everyone goes to work, Gene, my great-grandfather, owns a number of businesses, and everyone does something. We aren't expected to go into a family business, but there can be no freeloaders. My older brother is a lawyer; my cousins went into the business side of things. But then, suddenly, when I came along, no one thought that... I don't know; they didn't seem to think I was capable of anything! I went to college and studied interior design, and they all thought, Well, great, she can marry the right boy and be a perfect wife, mother and hostess. It was serious to me." She sighed. "Anyway, I walked out in a huff one night and wound up in New York City. Broke. And I wasn't about to call home. None of the design studios wanted much to do with a beginner--and I didn't have the time to wait for a job. Out of desperation I walked into one of the modeling agencies. And I was lucky. I did get work.''
“But you want to be a designer?'' Alexi chewed on her omelet, thought a minute, then shrugged. "I don't know anymore. I lost a lot of confidence somewhere. But..." She paused, a grin curling her lip. "Gene is great. He has always been willing to take a chance. He was desperate for someone to come take care of the house--he doesn't want it out of the family after all of these years. And he believes in me. So I want to do the house for him, and I want to do it right."
Emily nodded as if she understood perfectly. "And you will do it!" she said firmly.
Alexi laughed dryly. "I'm not so sure. Last night I couldn't get the old key to work in the lock. This morning I ran in terror from garden snakes. I'm not proving very much, am I? And now Rex is out there with the exterminators and cleaners."
Emily smiled and put her hand over Alexi's. "Young lady, that doesn't mean a thing. That's one of the problems with people today--men and women! All this role business! Alexi, you'll do just fine. So what if you don't handle snakes well? That does not take anything away from your competence. We all need help now and then, and if people could just learn not only to give it but to accept it, the world would be a better place. And the divorce rate would be lower!"
"I don't know," Alexi said, chuckling. "I feel like an idiot right now. But maybe things will improve." She cut off another piece of her omelet, feeling that maybe she had blurted out too much to a stranger, no matter how nice that stranger was.
"Emily, where did Samson come from? Is he Rex's dog or yours?"
"Oh, no! That beast belongs to Rex. Body and soul." She went on to tell Alexi about Samson as a little puppy, and Alexi relaxed, feeling that the conversation had taken on a much more casual tone.
Tony Martelli, from Bugs, Incorporated, was just driving up to the Brandywine house when Rex reached it. He gave Rex a wave and hopped out of his truck, smiling. Rex waved back, smiling in turn. He liked Tony. He was a live-and-let-live kind of a guy. The man had a tendency to chew on a toothpick or a piece of grass and to listen much more than he talked. He gave Rex's house monthly service and was one of the few people Rex had invited to wander his beach when he had the chance.
"Snakes, huh?"
Rex laughed. "And everything else under the sun."
Tony squinted beneath the glare of the sun. "Well, we'll spray, but snakes... Well, you kind of have to find the little guys and put them out." He scratched his head. "It rained last night, but it wasn't really a flood. Wonder how they got in."
"There was a broken window."
"Maybe." Tony shrugged. "It wouldn't be unheard-of, but I find it kind of strange."
Rex frowned, remembering how Alexi had accused him of putting the snakes into the house himself to scare her out. She was convinced that someone had been in the house last night. Maybe that same person had come back in after he had left early this morning.
He walked up the path with Tony and opened the door. Tony whistled. “How long has Gene been out of here?''
"Awhile. Nine months, maybe."
"Nine months of breeding bugs. Well, I'll spray her real good. And I'll look out for a nest of ringnecks. I just doubt it, though, you know? If they were in the house, Miz Jordan should have noticed them when she came in, not this morning." He laughed suddenly, "I've heard of ghosts in this place, but not snakes."
"Yeah." Rex laughed with Tony, but he wasn't amused. Tony went out for his equipment. Rex went on into the parlor and called the sheriffs office. A friend of his--a budding story-teller named Mark Eliot--was on the desk. Rex listened patiently to Mark's newest plot line, then told him that he was pretty sure someone was sneaking around the Brandywine house.
"Anything broken into?" Mark asked.
"Well...only by the rightful tenant. She couldn't get her key to work," Rex explained. Then he told Mark about Alexi's hearing footsteps racing down the stairs--and about the snakes. He was annoyed when Mark chuckled.
"Snakes? You think somebody snuck in to leave a pack of ringnecks?''
"Never mind..."
"Sorry, Rex, sorry," Mark apologized quickly. "Want me to come out?"
"No, there's nothing you can do now. Maybe someone could make an extra patrol at night and keep an eye on things."
"Sure thing, Rex. Will do."
Rex hung up, wondering why he still didn't feel right about things. He heard a whining sound and felt a cold nose against his hand. He patted the dog absently; he had forgotten that Samson was with him. "You should have been here last night, monster," he told the dog affectionately. “You might have caught whoever ran. If there was a 'whoever.' Come on, boy. Let's get Alexi's stuff, huh?" That didn't even seem to be such a good idea. In the kitchen, Rex began to close the open suitcase on the table; he hesitated. Everything of hers had a wonderful scent. Her clothes...
He picked up the soft silk blouse on top and brought it to his face. It seemed to whisper of her essence. He dropped it back into the suitcase and slammed the suitcase.