Hilary spent the rest of the afternoon in the library, pouring over every record in the place. Certainly, Pittsburgh had its fair share of ghost stories and monster sightings, but there were no mentions of giant talking bears and human-sized eagles and green trolls anywhere. No haunted mansions filled with rooms that seemed tailor-made for her, either.
More worrying was the phone call to radio station KDKA in downtown Pittsburgh. Jeff had several regular roles there, including broadcasts on the situation in Europe with his secretary Victor Comstock. Pavla’s people announced that Jeff was leaving the station a month before Christmas after he hadn’t shown up for work three days in a row. That wasn’t like him. Or Victor either, now that she thought of it. That walking brain in a man’s body was devoted to nothing but tending to Jeff’s work, his finances, and his beloved bleating about the situation overseas.
Calls to the Nixon Theater in Pittsburgh and the Vanderbilt and Winter Garden in New York produced the same results. Jeff had taken roles, then canceled them. Scott Sherwood, his con-man of a manager, wheedled Jeff’s way into three big leading man roles in drawing-room comedies…only for him to back out. That wasn’t like him, or Sherwood either. Jeff was nothing if not ambitious. His career meant everything to him…besides her, of course. Or at least, she thought she did. She supposed Pavla meant more now.
She couldn’t help her unease as she made her way back to her room. Jeff certainly wouldn’t have blown off roles like that. Scott Sherwood pushes his career with unholy fervor, when he wasn’t lying about just how he got him those roles. And Victor was only interested in the worsening situation in Europe and Asia, something he’d gotten Jeff involved in as well.
Her mind was a whirl of monsters and mysteries when she came back to her suite to find Puppy hanging a black gown on the changing screen. “Hello, Miss Hilary!” She straightened the draped shoulders. “Master wanted you to wear this one. He said…well, he thought you’d look nice in it. He bought it for…” she coughed again “...well, for someone, but he wants you to have it.”
“He does?” Hilary wrinkled her nose sardonically. “How nice of him. I didn’t think trolls knew anything about fashion.” She ran a finger along the draping black velvet, with its heavy sable trim and swishing skirt. “Actually, he has rather good taste. Patou, I’d say? Maybe Chanel. Certainly expensive. Good quality workmanship, not those ready-wear rags you buy off the rack at Kauffmann’s.”
She hadn’t been so primped and petted since she’d had to dismiss her own maid. Puppy brushed her auburn curls until they glowed. Hilary did have to do her own makeup, since the sweet dear couldn’t pull it off with her paws, but she let the girl select her jewelry. Hilary managed to get an exquisite, slender gold chain with one beautiful gold heart locket, etched with a rose in its center. She slipped a diamond and ruby ring that was almost bigger than the wedding ring she’d sold to get money for her family as Puppy nestled a golden tiara studded with black gems in her curls.
“There!” Puppy’s sweet doggy grin lit up the dim, musty bedroom. “You’re stunning, Miss Hilary! You take my breath away. You really look like a princess from a storybook.”
“Thank you, Puppy. I feel like one. I haven’t dressed up like this in a long time. Not since Jeff…” She sighed. “Not since Jeff took me to that gala dinner in New York for some producer or the other over a year ago. Right before he went to Europe and met…her.”
“Oh!” Puppy dashed to a closet and came out with a beaded purse, which she thrust into Hilary’s hands. “Here! This will make you feel better. He had it specially made for…for a friend.”
Hilary traced a finger over the rose-print beadwork on the black purse. “I wonder whom? I can’t see anyone being in love with that grouchy thing. I don’t think he’s bad, but he’s not the best conversationalist.”
“Miss Hilary, Master’s not a bad…well, he’s not really that bad. He’s just processing everything that’s happened to him in the past few months.” She looked up at the small wooden clock on the mantel. “Oh dear! We really must move along. He’ll be furious if we’re late, and that won't be good for anyone’s digestion.”
Hilary ignored Puppy, unable to stop looking at herself in the mirror. It wasn’t just vanity, for once. The dress…it was so much like a heavier version of the one she wore last July, two weeks after the Fourth. She and Jeff attended a gala charity event for needy children at the Frick Mansion. He and that Lost Boys entourage of his had just returned from Europe, and she looked forward to them spending time together. She closed her eyes, just for a few moments, and remembered the last time she saw Jeff…
They spent most of the night just walking through the gardens. “Roses of Yesterday” drifted through the either, played on the latest phonograph equipment in the house. “Mittens,” he said in her half-dreamed memory, “someday, we’re going to have something this beautiful. Somewhere to put those roses that aren’t a rooftop in New York. Get them fresh air.”
“I love that idea, Jeffrey.” She remembered the scent of him, his musky cologne, that black tuxedo that always did look stunning on him. She wore yellow taffeta trimmed with roses like the brilliant red and gold ones on the bushes flanking them. “Somewhere we can settle down, finally have space of our own.” She sighed, cuddling into those long, sinewy arms. “I’m just glad to have you back again. You were too long in Europe, darling. I know Victor’s worried about all those new groups forming in Germany and Italy, but…couldn’t he broadcast about them on his own?”
Jeff chuckled. “Hilary, you’ve heard Victor talk. He’s one of my best friends, and I admire his principles, but the man is a walking dictionary. To him, ‘proclivity for the grandeloquent’ are perfectly normal words to use in a conversation. The US government wanted someone who doesn’t sound like they just swallowed section A to L of Webster’s.”
Hilary squeezed his arm, smiling. “At least you’re here, now. We’ll be doing ‘Razzle Dazzle’ in the fall, and you did mention getting those radio roles.” She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose that charlatan manager of yours has conned half the radio station owners in Pittsburgh into giving you the best parts.”
“Hilary,” her husband scolded gently, “I know how you feel about Scott and the con-artist he used to be, but he’s been nothing but good for our careers. He wants what’s best for both of us.”
Hilary made a face. “He wants what’s best for him. That cut he takes…”
“I think,” Jeff’s eyes twinkled mischievously, “he’s hoping it’ll be enough to convince Betty to go out with him.”
“Absolutely not,” Hilary sniffed. “Betty’s in college to make something of herself. Her scripts are wonderful. You’ve read them. She’s too good for that conniving schemer of a Sherwood.”
Ironically, Hilary heard a pair of all-too-familiar voices as they turned the corner closer to the house. There was the master con-man himself, Scott Sherwood, clad in that white tuxedo most women found irresistible on him. Except her little sister. Thank heavens Betty always did have common sense. They were sitting on the stone bench, but she was more interested in the folds of her pale blue lace dress with the bow on the waist than the handsome charmer next to her.
“So Betty,” Scott practically rumbled as they came closer, “how about that date? We could get out of here and head to one of those speakeasies downtown. This party is boring, anyway. No action.” His mischievous amber eyes glittered with merriment as he put his big paw around her. “I know places downtown with lots of action. Perfect for a couple to get to know one another.”
She quickly pushed his arm off her shoulder. “Scott,” she gasped, “I…well…isn’t that terribly forward? And anyway, how can I trust you? I know how you’ve gotten roles for Jeff and Hilary. I know how you lie your way into whatever you want.”
“Betty, come on!” His round cheeks were pink and flushed as the threads of silver in the ebony hair nearly glowed in the moonlight. “So I…stretch the truth occasionally. I’m just trying to get Jeff good roles.”
“I heard,” Betty snapped, “that you embezzled and lied and stole from the last company you worked for.” She stood up too quickly. “Maybe you’re a little too smart for your own good.”
“Yeah,” Scott muttered darkly. “I’m starting to wonder if I am.”
“Excuse me!” Hilary thought she’d better step in. “Hello, Betty. I thought you were inside with Father and Doug. Doug’s waiting for you, after all. He’s so interested in that script you wrote for Jeff and me. ‘The Hands of Time.’ Sounds like the most exquisite melodrama, doesn’t it?”
Betty sighed. “Fine, Hilary. I’ll talk to him.” She turned to Scott…but Hilary did not like the almost wistful look in her eyes. “Scott…”
He frowned and turned away, hiding the hurt in those amber orbs. “Go talk to…Doug,” he sneered. “If that’s what you want.”
“I…yes.” Betty looked away. “That’s what I want. I’m not a con-artist, Scott. I’m a college girl. All I want is the truth. I won’t find it here.” Even Hilary shivered despite the warm night.
“Hilary,” Jeff said with that warm, dimpled smile of his, “Sherwood and I have to talk for a minute. Why don’t you go join Betty and your father?” He rubbed her arm gently. “Tell him I have a…surprise for you. I was going to wait to spring it on our anniversary, but it’s too good not to share now.”
“A surprise?” Hilary grinned flirtatiously. “I can’t imagine what it could be. A new gown? One of those new roadsters?”
Scott’s usual scoundrel smirk almost managed to look sweet this time. “Jeff’s really excited about this, Hilary. I think you’ll like it.”
She gave Jeff a kiss on the cheek. “All right, dear. But don’t take too long. I’ll be waiting for you inside. Everyone wants to congratulate us on that tour of ‘Razzle Dazzle” from last year, before you left for Europe.”
Hilary remembered the music stopping as she made her way to the rosy glow of the main house. She passed Victor Comstock, her husband’s secretary, on the way. The whiskey-dark eyes and gentle beak of a nose were so deep into a pile of papers he held, he almost ran into her. “Sorry, Hilary,” he murmured in that deep, stoic baritone. “I didn’t witness your arrival. Have you seen Jeff? I have information that is of the utmost importance to several parties that I must relay to him and Sherwood.” He always did seem to lack the flamboyance of his friends. His plain gray suit with the pink tie that squeezed that long bird’s neck was a marked contrast to the expensive tuxes on the other two.
“He’s back in the garden with Scott.” She pointed behind her.
“Thank you, Hilary.” Victor’s eyes returned to the papers as he followed her finger.
Maple, sporting a bright blue gown with swingy beads and mounds of ruffles, clattered into her next. “Hey, Hilary, who was that guy back there with the papers?” She grinned. “He was kinda cute. Looked like a real Prince Charmin’. I called him, but he didn’t seem to see me.”
“You can try again later. The Lost Boys are having some kind of a meeting over by the stone bench.” She peered at them over her shoulder, but all she could see were Jeff’s tousled black-brown curls, Scott’s shining black silver locks, and Victor’s wisp of dark brown leaning over those papers. “I think we’re better off letting them do whatever it is men do with a pile of papers.”
“Yeah.” Maple grabbed her hand. “Come on! Let’s go get some snacks before they’re all gone. I heard the brownies are incredible here.”
Hilary laughed and shook her head, letting her sister tug her to the main house…but her eyes were still focused on those tousled curls, until they were out of sight…
“Miss Hilary?”
She shook her head. “Yes, Puppy?”
“Are you all right?” She gave her hair one last pat. “You looked kind of dazed.”
“Just remembering the last time I saw an…old friend.” She squared her shoulders and pulled a non-existent thread off her dress. “All right, dear. Let’s do this. Lead me to the Troll’s Lair.”
By the time Puppy led her downstairs, dusk had fallen. The rosy sunset cast strange shadows over the musty old house, increasing Hilary’s feeling of unease. She knew there had to be something to Jeff’s disappearance and those dreams last night…and she was going to get some answers from this…thing…if she had to pound him until he had two black and green eyes!
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