Page 169 of Her Defiant Warrior

“Hmmm.” She looked up at the entry to the room and, as if by magic, the crypt keeper appeared. “We’re ready for our refreshments.”

“It will be just a moment, ma’am.”

Mrs. Simpson turned her attention back to Lainey. “MacLaine, the first of our guests will arrive at four o’clock this afternoon. I expect you to be wearing your great aunt’s pearls, your hair up, and the navy blue dress I have hanging in your closet.”

Her mother leaned forward. “Wait a moment. Are you wearing your grandmother Simpson’s earrings?”

Mateo watched Lainey touch the pretty garnet flower-shaped earrings with the good-sized cubic zirconia in the middle.

“Yes, they are,” Lainey said with a big smile.

Mrs. Simpson gasped. “Where did you get them? They were never found after her death.”

“Gran left me the contents of her safe deposit box.” Lainey grinned wider.

Mrs. Simpson gripped the arms of her chair.

“That wasn’t in the will.”

“No, she made me the co-signer when I was eighteen. It didn’t have to be declared in the will. After she died, I opened it up. She left me a beautiful letter.”

“I don’t care about the letter, what else did it have?” Her mother’s voice was harsh.

“Just some gold coins and bracelets and stuff,” Lainey said casually.

Gold coins! Not a payment from the Kraken! She’s innocent.

“The Simpson jewels! You know your father has been trying to track those down since his mother passed. Why haven’t you told him that you had them? They belong to him.”

“Actually, they don’t. They belong to me.”

Her mother’s face was almost purple. It went with the color of the room. “I’ll have to talk to your father about this. As an attorney, he’ll know the correct course of action.”

Lainey smiled. “I look forward to it.”

Mateo was positive his girl had her ducks in a row.

“Back to the matter at hand. As I said, there is a navy-blue dress hanging in your closet. since you declined to tell me about your weight, I was forced to assume the worst, so I had it fitted for a size fourteen. You must really get your eating habits under control.”

Mateo grabbed Lainey’s hand and let her try to crush his bones.

“Fortnum, put the tea service here,” Lainey’s mother indicated the table in front of her. “MacLaine will serve. Take away the scones. They’re not needed.”

“Actually, I’d like the scones, Mrs. Simpson,” Mateo said.

“Very well,” she grimaced. “Mr. Agular, I would assume that my daughter told you how important this weekend is? Her father, Mr. Simpson, will run for the state senate next year, and he is gathering his supporters now. After he wins and serves a couple of years, he will then run for a national seat. It is important that the Simpson family be seen in the best light. Do you understand?”

“Your daughter explained a lot of things in great detail. So far, I see she was quite accurate.”

“Is that supposed to mean something to me?”

“Take it however you want to,” Mateo invited.

Lainey’s mother sniffed and turned her attention back to Lainey.

“Today is informal. However, besides family and close friends, there will be a couple of key potential donors who are staying here with us. We’ll be having cocktails and hors d’oeuvres out on the back lawn. Your father wanted a barbeque. Can you imagine?”

Lainey shrugged, which seemed to be enough of a response for her mother to continue. “I’ll need you to ensure that you’ve talked to every single person at this gathering. Don’t tell them what you’re currently doing up in Virginia. That’s just gauche. Say you’re taking a gap year or some such thing and considering opening your own interior design firm. Dottie’s daughter has been considering opening her art studio for fifteen years now. She’s in every magazine and seen with everybody who’s anybody. Maybe you should say you’re considering opening up an art studio.”