Клэр Донелли - Hiss And Tell

“Patriarch?” Ben suggested.

“Right. That,” Robin agreed. “Then there’s his grandsons, Governor Lem and Governor Tom, and their wives. You don’t hear much about the ladies, and as for the guys, that’s all political stuff.” Obviously Robin found the “political stuff” less gripping than the news of who was sleeping with whom.

“Who else?” She thought for a moment and then answered herself. “Caleb Kingsbury, the Senator’s son, of course.”

“I met him,” Sunny said.

For the first time, Robin looked impressed with Sunny. “Really? Is he as nice as he looks on TV? He’s always joking with the reporters and the photographers. You know, he’s kinda old but he’s single—divorced since the scandal.”

“The scandal nearly crucified him,” Will pointed out. “I guess Caleb decided it was better to befriend the media than to fight them.”

Maybe that explains why he was nice to me, Sunny thought. “How about the wedding party?” she asked aloud.

“I don’t know for sure,” Robin replied. “But I read a whole thing in the National Inquisitor the other day about who’s supposed to be coming up. Beau Bellingham is the best man. He’s really good-looking, like a model, and he’s in med school. He was Carson’s best friend in college. Eliza Stoughton came along as Beau’s date—I don’t know if she was hoping to make it as a bridesmaid. She worked for an advertising agency in New York City.” Robin went on, “She’d been engaged to someone else but broke it off. Oh, and Priscilla’s matron of honor, Yardley Neal, who has been her best friend since they were kids. Her husband is Thomas Something Neal.”

“Langford.” Will supplied the name.

“Right. For a while people thought the Neal guy and Priscilla were going to get married. They’ve known each other forever, and they’re some kind of cousins. Ick.”

“Yeah, I heard that, too.” Sunny made a face. “He couldn’t have Priscilla, so he married her best friend? Something icky about that, too.”

“He works on Wall Street, his dad is a big shot there.” Robin frowned. “I’m trying to remember. Something happened with the father. Did he get sick?”

“No, he got scared,” Mike piped up. “Retired abruptly after there was some talk about investigating insider trading. He was a name partner in the firm, though, so the kid will probably wind up as one, too. Just a matter of time.”

He stopped when he realized everyone else in the room was staring at him. “Hey, I’m retired. I like to read the paper every day. Even the business pages. It’s not like I have some big-shot stock portfolio, but I like to keep an eye on things.”

Sunny brought them back to the topic at hand. “So that’s the best man and matron of honor. Who else? There was another guy there,” Sunny said, remembering the group by the pool.

Robin nodded. “Right, he’s got a funny name. Van Tweezers?”

“No, Van Twissel,” Will said. “Peter Van Twissel.”

“I think his family and the de Kruks go way back.” Robin shrugged. “Otherwise, I don’t know much about him.”

Sunny thought that over. So, either he doesn’t do anything to interest the gossip community, or maybe he doesn’t do anything, period. “He’s a rich kid,” she said. “Does he really need a job?”

Ben looked as if the concept of not needing a job was completely foreign to him. “Nowadays, they usually do something.”

“Even if it’s only counting the family money,” Mike added.

“Is that what Carson de Kruk does?” Sunny asked.

“More or less. He works as a junior executive in his dad’s company,” Robin answered. “That’s what they call it—junior executive. And I heard that Augustus de Kruk has him on a short leash, financially. Carson racked up a ton of credit card bills in college, and his dad’s been making him pay them off from his salary. But when he gets married, Carson is supposed to get a big raise so he can afford to start a family.”

So there’s money involved if the wedding goes through, Sunny thought. In fact, the whole Kingsbury-de Kruk union seemed like some massive financial merger. Eliza Stoughton had been seen arguing with Carson, and she was also being blackmailed, at least according to Randall MacDermott. Did that tie in? Was that even real?

All this seemed more than she could hold in her head.

Maybe you won’t have to, an unworthy thought wormed its way up. Maybe the Kingsburys won’t even allow you into their precious compound. Priscilla had seemed pretty confident that she could swing the job of getting Sunny onto Neal’s Neck, essentially as an undercover agent. But she and Uncle Cale didn’t strike Sunny as the power brokers in the Kingsbury family.

Will glanced at his watch. “Well, I’d better get back up there. The damned newspeople are going to start showing up at the roadblock again—live feeds on the scene for the late newscasts.”

“I’ll lend a hand,” Ben volunteered. “Let me just take Robin home and get into my uniform.”

They said their good-byes and headed to their respective vehicles. Sunny waved good-bye, then headed to the kitchen, the piece of paper with Priscilla’s number clutched in her hand. She hadn’t wanted to make the call with everyone watching. A lot rode on this, and Sunny didn’t want the extra pressure.

Mike seemed to understand. He went into the living room and clicked on the TV.

Shadow turned up, as he often did after company had left. He seemed to pick up on Sunny’s nervous mood, rubbing against her legs as she walked down the hallway to the rear of the house.

With a half smile, she dropped to one knee and scratched him behind the ears. He kept pushing his head into her hand.

“Thanks, guy, but I can’t keep putting this off.” She went to the kitchen, got the phone and dialed.

Priscilla Kingsbury answered after the first ring. Had she been sitting with her cell phone in hand, waiting for this call?

“Hi, it’s Sunny. I got the okay from my boss.”

“Great!” Cillie broke in. “Everything’s set on this end. We can put you up in one of the guesthouses if you need to stay.” She paused for a second. “You should probably bring a couple of changes of clothing and a bathing suit. Do you think you could be here tomorrow morning by eleven?”

Now it was Sunny’s turn to pause. “Um. I guess so.”

“Fine. I’ll send a car for you. Parking’s kind of limited out here on the neck.”

And I guess my old Wrangler isn’t the kind of car that would get compound room, Sunny silently finished. Still, she’d already agreed to this. Too late to back out now. She chatted for a moment more with Priscilla, said good-bye, and hung up.

She sighed. Now all I have to do is find a couple of outfits that will look casual but elegant beside a pack of super-rich kids .

She started for the stairs, then stopped.

And a bathing suit.

The next morning, Sunny had breakfast with her father and tried not to trip over her cat, who was keeping himself underfoot. Shadow had not responded well to the travel bag she’d placed in the front hall. He’d sniffed it, butted it with his head until it fell over, and then trotted over to Sunny, his expression demanding, What do you think you’re doing?

“You’ll do fine,” Mike assured her over his bowl of cereal. “The reporting you can do standing on your head. As for the other part—well, you’ve shown you can handle that, too.”

“I’m so glad you’re pleased.” But then Sunny apologized for her sarcasm. “Sorry, Dad. I feel like I’m going away to camp—and I’m afraid the other kids won’t like me.”