Read Online One Dangerous Lady by Jane Stanton Hitchcock - Free Book Online Page B

So I am going to tell you a big secret. But you must swear to me on your life you will not breathe a word of this to anyone else.”
    â€œI swear,” I said warily.
    She leaned in and whispered, “Russell is alive.”
    I pulled back. “Where is he?”
    â€œShhh! Not so loud.”
    â€œBut where is he?”
    â€œI don’t know exactly. But I do know that he is alive. I know it inside, here. ” She put her hand on her heart. Her eyes burned with conviction.
    â€œBut you haven’t actually heard anything?”
    â€œNo.”
    I mustered a halfhearted smile, thinking this was merely wishful thinking on her part. My assumption was that if they hadn’t found Russell Cole by now, he’d most likely drowned. But I didn’t want to dash her hopes.
    â€œOkay, well, let’s pray he is then.”
    â€œDo not look so skeptical, Jo. You do not understand. Russell is alive,” she said emphatically. “This has happened before.”
    â€œWhat do you mean?”
    â€œYou swear you will keep this in confidence?”
    â€œI swear.”
    She gave me a single, solemn nod. “Russell has disappeared before, Jo. And not just once.”
    â€œYou’re kidding. How? When ?”
    â€œI can not go into it. But I will tell you that my darling husband is not a well man. He has a terrible psychological affliction. We will find him sooner or later. We always do.”
    â€œWhat kind of affliction?”
    She raised her palm like a traffic cop. “That is all I can tell you, I am afraid. But I have been through this before and I know it will all turn out well in the end.”
    I was dying to ask more questions, but she clearly wasn’t going to talk, and the steady stream of wet, cranky guests filing into the tent started to intrude on our space. Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around. It was Max, looking amazingly dry and handsome in an old-style double-breasted tuxedo.
    â€œI believe you’re my dinner partner,” he said.
    I confess that I felt a little frisson of real attraction.
    â€œYou know Carla Cole, don’t you?” I said, trying not to forget my manners.
    Max mock-kissed Carla’s hand, as was his wont. “We have indeed met,” he said. “Terribly sorry to have missed your party last evening.”
    â€œYes, I am so sorry, too,” Carla said. “You were supposed to be sitting next to Jo, but you will make up for it tonight.”
    With that, a gong sounded and harried waiters made pleas for all of us to be seated.
    â€œCome, dear lady,” Max said, taking my hand. “I believe they want us to sit down before the tent falls in on us.”
    As we were walking to our table, Carla said to me, “I know you are going to be my great friend and mentor in New York, Jo, because we are sisters under the skin.”
    It was an odd thing to say. Was Carla going to be spending more time in New York I wondered? When I glanced back, Carla was staring at Max and me with a strange look on her face. When she saw me, she smiled as if she were embarrassed I’d caught her, and turned away.
    At dinner, I was seated between Max and Sir Arthur Tilden, the governor general of Barbados, a lean, bespectacled black man with wiry, salt-and-pepper hair and a grave countenance. Sir Arthur had performed the marriage ceremony. He, of course, knew that Russell Cole was missing, because it was he who Carla had called for help, at Betty’s insistence. He’d helped get things mobililized. He didn’t say a word to me about Russell, however. Sir Arthur was very discreet—an admirable if dull trait. I wondered if Max knew, because if he was going out with Lulu, perhaps she’d phoned him, as well as Miranda. In any case, I wasn’t going to be the one to bring it up with either man. I kept thinking about what Carla had said about Russell and wondered what kind of “psychological