Read Online Grace Cries Uncle by Julie Hyzy - Free Book Online Page A

Bennett. Sound good?”
    â€œYes, thanks, Miss Wheaton.”
    Having overheard, Frances had already taken up the quest. “Who do you suppose this visitor is?” she asked as I crossed her office. “The Mister usually keeps you updated on his appointments.”
    â€œNot this time, apparently.”
    â€œI’m telling you,” she shouted to my back as I headed out, “he’s planning a surprise. Mark my words.”
    I took a staff stairway down to the main level and let myself through a segment of the velvet-rope barricade that delineated tourist boundaries. Hurrying across a corridor where a family of six walked abreast, taking up the entire width, I excused myself and pushed through.
    I caught sight of Bennett’s guest from about thirty feet away. Tall, with the kind of blond hair that managed to look tousled and professional at the same time, he cut a dashing figure in his charcoal suit. Seventy-five-year-old Evelyn stared up at him with undisguised adoration, and although he was about half her age, he appeared to be enjoying Evelyn’s company.
    â€œI’m Grace Wheaton,” I said when she regretfully directed his attention to me. “I’m sorry Bennett Marshfield isn’t available at the moment. How may I help you?”
    He shifted the camel overcoat he carried in order to shake my hand. “Very pleased to meet you,” he said in a warm Australian accent. “Evelyn informs me that you’re the palace manager for the estate.”
    I doubted Evelyn had used those exact words.
Palace manager
wasn’t a term I encountered often, but it always made me smile. “I suppose you could say that.”
    â€œI’m Malcolm Krol.” He handed me a business card.
    These days, when anyone can achieve quasi-professional results using a desktop printer, business cards are generally unimpressive. Not so that of Malcolm Krol. I recognized the high-quality linen stock and noted the raised printing. Deep maroon lettering against a creamy background provided the man’s name and phone number, nothing more.
    â€œWhat business are you in, Mr. Krol?” I asked.
    Our visitor either perpetually maintained an amused expression, or he recognized me as a gatekeeper and decided to play along. His eyes were unreadable but he appeared to be tamping down a tolerant smile.
    Evelyn piped in, clearly eager to rejoin the conversation. “He had an appointment with Mr. Marshfield this morning at eleven,” she said, adding absolutely no useful information whatsoever. “His plane was delayed.”
    Krol reached across the desk to touch Evelyn’s arm. “That’s right. And if the airline had gotten me here on time, I would have had my meeting with Mr. Marshfield and been out of your hair.”
    I waited for him to answer my question. Instead, he lowered his voice. “Have you any idea when my colleague will be available?”
    Colleague? That label suggested he and Bennett had worked together in the past or had plans to work together in the future.
    â€œMalcolm?”
    I turned to see Bennett jogging across the main hall. Hewaved a greeting and closed the distance between us in seconds.
    As the two shook hands, Bennett gestured toward me. “I see you’ve met the estate’s manager.” To me, he said, “Thank you for greeting my guest. Frances let me know you were down here.” Bennett’s smile was strained.
    â€œMy pleasure,” I said. “I was just asking Mr. Krol about his business.” Holding the man’s card aloft, I casually flipped it back and forth. My message was clear—I wanted to know more.
    â€œOf course,” Bennett said, lifting it from my fingers. “I will be sure to talk with you later. For now, Mr. Krol and I have much to discuss. And I believe Frances requires your assistance upstairs.”
    There was no question about it; I was being dismissed. I didn’t like it one