2

Gia answered the doorbell. It was Eunice’s day off and Nellie was still asleep, so the job was left to her. She wrapped her robe more tightly around her and walked slowly and carefully from the kitchen to the front of the house. The inside of her head felt too big for her skull; her tongue was thick, her stomach slightly turned. Champagne… Why should something that made you feel so good at night leave you feeling so awful the next day?

A look through the peephole showed Jack standing there in white shorts and a dark blue shirt.

“Tennis anyone?” he said with a lopsided grin as she opened the door.

He looked good. Gia had always liked a lean, wiry build on a man. She liked the linear cords of muscle in his forearms, and the curly hair on his legs. Why did he look so healthy when she felt so sick?

“Well? Can I come in?”

Gia realized she had been staring at him. She had seen him three times in the past four days. She was getting used to having him around again. That wasn’t good. But there would be no defense against it until Grace was found—one way or another.

“Sure.” When the door was closed behind him, she said, “Who’re you playing? Your Indian lady?” She regretted that immediately, remembering his crack last night about jealousy. She wasn’t jealous… just curious.

“No. My father.”

“Oh.” Gia knew from the past how painful it was for Jack to spend time with his father.

“But the reason I’m here…” He paused uncertainly and rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not sure how to say this, but here goes: Don’t drink anything strange.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No tonics or laxatives or anything new you find around the house.”

Gia was not in the mood for games. “I may have had a little too much champagne last night, but I don’t go around swigging from bottles.”

“I’m serious, Gia.”

She could see that, and it made her uneasy. His gaze was steady and concerned.

“I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. But there was something bad about that laxative of Grace’s. Just stay away from anything like it. If you find any more of it, lock it away and save it for me.”

“Do you think it has anything to do—?”

“I don’t know. But I want to play it safe.”

Gia could sense a certain amount of evasiveness in Jack. He wasn’t telling her everything. Her unease mounted.

“What do you know?”

“That’s just it—I don’t know anything. Just a gut feeling. So play it safe and stay away from anything strange.” He gave her a slip of paper with a telephone number on it. It had a 609 area code. “Here’s my father’s number. Call me there if you need me or there’s any word from Grace.” He glanced up the stairs and toward the rear of the house. “Where’s Vicks?”

“Still in bed. She had a hard time falling asleep last night, according to Eunice.” Gia opened the front door. “Have a good game.”

Jack’s expression turned sour. “Sure.”

She watched him drive back to the corner and turn downtown on Sutton Place. She wondered what was going on in his mind; why the odd warning against drinking “anything strange.” Something about Grace’s laxative bothered him but he hadn’t said what. Just to be sure, Gia went up to the second floor and checked through all the bottles on Grace’s vanity and in her bathroom closet. Everything had a brand name. There was nothing like the unlabeled bottle Jack had found on Thursday.

She took two Tylenol Extra Strength capsules and a long hot shower. The combination worked to ease her headache. By the time she had dried off and dressed in plaid shorts and a blouse, Vicky was up and looking for breakfast.

“What do you feel like eating?” she asked as they passed the parlor on their way to the kitchen. She looked cute in her pink nighty and her fuzzy pink Dearfoams.

“Chocolate!”

“Vicky!”

“But it looks so good!” She pointed to where Eunice had set out a candy dish full of the Black Magic pieces from England before going out for the day.

“You know what it does to you.”

“But it would be delicious!”

“All right,” Gia said. “Have a piece. If you think a couple of bites and a couple of minutes is worth a whole day of swelling up and itching and feeling sick, go ahead and take one.”

Vicky looked up at her, and then at the chocolates. Gia held her breath, praying Vicky would make the right choice. If she chose the chocolate, Gia would have to stop her, but there was a chance she would use her head and refuse. Gia wanted to know which it would be. Those chocolates would be sitting there for days, a constant temptation to sneak one behind her mother’s back. But if Vicky could overcome the temptation now, Gia was sure she would be able to resist for the rest of their stay.

“I think I’ll have an orange, Mom.”

Gia swept her up into her arms and swung her around.

“I’m so proud of you, Vicky! That was a very grown-up decision.”

“Well, what I’d really like is a chocolate-covered orange.”

Laughing, she led Vicky by the hand to the kitchen, feeling pretty good about her daughter and about herself as a mother.