Love and Arson Read online

  In her inbox, there was an email from him. Had to be from him, she didn’t know anyone else who would be using harrison.devlin at devlincivilengineers.com as his email address. Speak of the devil, or at least of the Devlin, and he’s sure to appear.

  She opened the email and read what he had written; “Mary Danielle, I would like it very much if you would come home. I will be happy to buy your airline ticket, provide for moving your property, and to provide for all your needs, as a father should provide for his child. Just tell me when you wish to come and I’ll make the arrangements to get you here. It’s well past time for us to get to know one another. Your father, Harry Devlin.”

  Dani thought hard about that. Her contract with the school district would end on June fifth and wouldn’t be renewed as the district was cutting back on art instruction. Her last existing local art commission would be delivered on the morning of the sixth, when she was scheduled to deliver bronze portrait sculptures of the bride’s and groom’s heads to the site of their wedding reception. The lease on this studio would be up on the twentieth. She’d need to be out on or before then. She’d already told the landlord she wouldn’t be renewing for another year.

  All of the application packets she’d sent out to public and private high schools in the bi-state area, as well as colleges and community colleges around the country, had listed her email address and her cell phone number, but not a physical address, as the ways to contact her. So, she wouldn’t miss any potential job opportunities if she went to see the man, her father.

  She clicked on “reply”. Lord, now, what do I say to the man, my father, and his invitation? Let my words be gentle, please. She typed, “Thank you very much for your kind invitation. I’m obligated to finish out my teaching contract with the school district and to finish my current art commissions. However, I should be able to drive out for a visit sometime during the second or third week of June. I am anxious to meet you. Dani”

  She read her reply and hit send.

  He’d probably read “anxious” as meaning “eager”. But she meant precisely what she had written. Thinking about meeting her father filled her with anxiety, and it wasn’t even remotely of a pleasant sort.

  Chapter Two

  Dani’s restored red 1964 Volkswagen Karmann Ghia convertible rolled to a stop at the gate. She double checked the driving directions she’d received from her father. Yes, this was to be the place. Yet, how could it be? Did her father really live here, behind a stone fence and a steel gate? She had to have made a wrong turn someplace. There was only one way to know. She’d just have to ask.

  Climbing out of the car and walking around to the reinforced steel gate that was flanked by a tall white stone fence seemed to take forever. It had been a long drive, even breaking it up into a four day trip, stopping for job inter-views along the way with two small liberal arts colleges and a public high school.

  A middle aged uniformed man, an obviously armed security guard, came out of the gate house.

  “Can I help you?” he asked, his voice clearly indicating he didn't think there was anything he could do for her. Dani couldn't blame him for that. She knew she probably looked like something the cat had dragged in, backwards, during a thunderstorm. Hours in a car could do that to anyone.

  She forced a smile, anyway. “I hope that you can help me. I'm looking for Harrison Devlin’s house.”

  “Why are you looking for the Devlin Estate?” the man asked, care in his voice.

  The Devlin Estate, Dani echoed in her mind. The Devlin estate. My father has an estate. This is his place? Oh, good, merciful God, what do I have in common anyone this wealthy? Not much, aside from blood ties.

  She sighed, before replying, “I'm Dani Devlin, and I'm looking for my father’s house.”

  The guard smiled at her, “May I see your driver's license, Miss?”

  “My driver's license?” Dani echoed uncertainly as she pulled her wallet from the front pocket of her denim skirt and removed the license from her wallet. “Sure. Here it is.”

  He looked at her license and nodded. “Okay. Thanks, Miss Devlin. My name's Charlie Parker. I'm the day man here during the week. I'll just call them at the main house and tell them you're on your way up. They’ve been awaiting your arrival for weeks, excited about your coming.”

  “Don't call them, Charlie. I want this to be a surprise.” That's putting it mildly. Only, I'm the one being surprised.

  Charlie nodded. “Sure thing, Miss. Whatever you want. Drive on through when the gate opens. The main house is about a half mile up and off to your left behind the stand of trees. You really can't miss it.”

  Both sides of the road—she wouldn’t call it a driveway since the asphalt pavement was a generous two lanes wide and striped—were lined with wooden rail fencing. Beautiful Thoroughbred horses ran and played within the lushly green enclosures. Dani stopped her car along the side of the road, parking in the grassy shoulder, well off the pavement.

  Needing time to think, she climbed out of the car and walked over to the fence. Leaning on the top rail, she watched the horses for the longest time. Beautiful animals. It’s a rich man’s hobby. Deciding that she had to know what sort of man her father was, she got back in her car and drove up to the house.

  She looked at the four story white stone American Greek Revival building. The house had to be at least a hundred years old. No one built like this anymore.

  The man who lived here, in this stone mansion, was her father, the only family remaining to her. She hadn't driven to this exclusive area of rural Virginia, just to turn around without even meeting her father. She simply refused to do that. No one, nothing, cowed her! Not even a house as grander than her most self-indulgent fantasy.

  Dani removed herself from her small car, closing the door more forcefully than was absolutely necessary. Then she felt ashamed of herself. It was silly to take out emotions on possessions, especially on things she relied on as much as she needed that old car. She climbed the several granite steps from the driveway up to the broad front verandah of the house.

  She wondered if she should have stopped somewhere and changed clothes before coming to her father's house. Dani knew her thrift store bought denim skirt and blouse were a far cry from the clothing worn by the man who lived here. But, then, it wouldn't have done much good to change. She really didn't own much that was any better quality than what she was wearing, just one business suit and a single formal dress. But neither of those were appropriate for this meeting. Squaring her shoulders and lifting her chin, while gathering her dignity around her like a protective shield, she rang the doorbell.

  A tall, slender, sixty-plus year old, woman, wearing a black dress and white apron, her graying dark hair cut into a sleek short pageboy, answered the door. “Yes?” the woman queried.

  “I believe that I'm expected,” she replied. “I'm...”

  “Of course, you're expected. You're late. You were supposed to be here at eight this morning to begin your duties and here it is nearly eleven,” the woman said.

  “I believe there is some misunderstanding,” Dani tried to correct the woman.

  “The only misunderstanding, child, is in your not obeying orders on when to report in,” the older woman huffed. “If this is any indication of your ability to take direction, don’t unpack your bag.” Then the older woman's scowl deepened into plain disgust as she looked over Dani's shoulder. “And for heaven's sake, park your vehicle under the carport behind the garage. Then come to the staff entrance.” The older woman closed the door firmly in Dani’s face.

  Dani stood there, fighting a mix of anger and amuse-ment. She didn’t know whether to laugh or scream in frustration. She was tempted to go back down the steps, climb into her car, and simply drive away, forgetting all about this visit to her father. However, she knew she wasn’t going to let anyone treat her as a servant in her own father’s house. So, she rang the bell again.

  “I told you to use the staff entrance,” the older woman chided a moment
later. “Go on, off with you! If you can't follow directions any better than that, I'll call the agency and have you replaced. It's bad enough that they've sent me a young nanny, but to send an impudent one to boot is far too much to bear. I’ll be talking to the agency about this, just you see.”

  Nanny? Why would her father need a nanny? Did he have young children, at his age? Dani questioned in her mind. But, she let that slide for a moment.

  “Just one minute,” Dani replied, her voice as gentle as she could make it. She put her hand on the door to block it being closed on her for a second time. “I’m Dani Devlin.”

  “Oh, my! Dani? Miss Mary Danielle?” The housekeeper opened the door the rest of the way while looking at her in great curiosity. “You aren't in the least what I expected. Charlie was under orders to call me when you arrived. I’ll have his guts for garters over this. You just see if I don’t.”

  “I told him not to announce me,” Dani said.

  The housekeeper blinked twice, then sighed. “Well, then that’s a different matter, isn’t it? You took me by surprise, Miss Mary Danielle.”

  “Obviously.”

  “Well, child, come in,” the older woman said in a suddenly kind voice. “I'm Cecilia Green, the housekeeper. People around here call me Sissy.”

  “Hello, Sissy. People call me Dani. Would you please inform my fa...Mr. Devlin I’m here?”

  She stepped inside the gray marble walled entryway. A massive crystal chandelier gave light to the elegant room. Arrangements of exotic roses filled cut crystal vases, atop antique mahogany tables along the walls. The foyer stated decisively the wealth of the owner, but it lacked the warm feel of a home. Or maybe, it only lacked the feel of the only real home she had ever really known. She couldn't imagine the scent of fresh gingerbread, or of an apple pie, reaching these rooms from the kitchen.

  Sissy answered her, “Harry’s away on business today, not expected back until evening. Mrs. Devlin is in her parlor, but she will be leaving shortly. No one else is at home. Except Mr. Jason and he's down at the stables, tending to his favorite mare.”

  Mrs. Devlin? Dani wondered. Grandmother or Step-mother? No, it has to be my stepmother. Mother told me my grandmother was dead. Then again, she told me my father was dead as well. Besides, who’s Mr. Jason?

  She’d known walking into her father’s life would be difficult. She hadn’t expected it to be this disconcerting.

  “I suppose that I could come back, later,” Dani said with a small yawn. “Could you direct me to a respectable, inexpensive, hotel?”

  “Harry Devlin would have my head in a handbasket, if I did that,” Sissy replied with a laugh. “Your suite has been ready for quite some time now. I have orders to make sure you have everything you need. Follow me.”

  Dani followed the housekeeper past an incredibly beautiful black marble stairway. Two niches in the walls on opposite sides of the room held well executed life-sized white carrera marble busts; one of a woman, the other of a man. The woman’s face could have been Dani’s own. The statue bore a strong resemblance to the photo of her father that had always been on her mother’s bedside table.

  She stopped and looked at the statue of the woman. Was this a relative? It would have to be. But who?

  Sissy came to stand beside her. In a low voice, the housekeeper said, “Your grandfather, rest his soul, was quite an artist. He created that of your grandmother, Katherine, and the other of his own self, the year they married. He missed his calling, James Devlin did. He should have spent his life doing his art, instead of letting sculpture be his hobby.”

  “It’s beautiful work.”

  “Mr. James was amazing when he put his mind to it,” Sissy allowed. “You would have liked him, but he was dead a long time before you were born. Come along, now.”

  Her father inhabited a world she had never really known. Edward had shown her a glimpse of it. But her former fiancé had been a wannabe. Her father’s world was clearly old money. Do I really want to know anything about my father and his world? Can I ever fit in here?

  Sissy Green led her into a formal sitting room where a perfectly coifed, immaculately dressed, blonde woman sat reading a quilting magazine and drinking coffee. The woman was probably, Dani guessed, somewhere in her early sixties. The blonde hair was obviously chemically assisted, although too well done to be the work of any except a very expensive salon. Everything about the woman screamed both money and leisure.

  “Missus Devlin, this young woman is your step-daughter, Mary Danielle,” the housekeeper replied with some degree of relish.

  Dani caught the tension between the other two women, although she didn't understand the cause.

  “Thank you, Sissy. That will be all,” the blonde woman dismissed.

  “Mary Danielle,” her father’s wife said, with a slight nod and motioning for Dani to take a seat. “Please sit. Would you care for a cup of coffee?”

  Dani watched as the housekeeper smiled, winked at her, then walked from the room with a decided spring in her step.

  “Please. That would be very nice, Mrs. Devlin,” Dani answered.

  “Call me Evelyn, or even Lyn, as your father does. We might as well be on a first name basis, since I'm your stepmama. How do you take your coffee?”

  There was tension in this house, between her father’s lady and the housekeeper. Dani suspected her presence was aggravating the situation.

  Her stepmother poured a cup of the steaming black liquid from the silver service on the cherry table.

  “Black, thank you, Lyn. My friends call me Dani.”

  “You look quite weary, Mary Dan…er…Dani,” Lyn observed while handing over the bone china cup and saucer.

  A single cup and saucer of this china would have cost a week’s teaching salary. Yet, Lyn treated it as casually as Dani might treat a ceramic mug from the dollar store. It couldn’t have been clearer how differently they saw money.

  “I am tired. I left Indianapolis this morning at one.”

  “Indianapolis? I thought you were from Illinois, not Indiana.”

  “I had a job interview with a high school there yesterday afternoon. Then I met some old college friends for dinner, checked into a hotel, got some sleep, and woke up because of a loud party on the floor, decided I wasn’t going to get back to sleep with that racket going on. So, I showered, made coffee enough to fill my thermos, checked out, and hopped in the car,” she admitted after she sipped the extremely strong coffee.

  “You drove all the way, at night, alone?” Lyn asked, horror in her voice. “Do you have any idea of the trouble you could have gotten into?”

  Dani smiled, but she knew the expression probably didn't reach her eyes. “I can take care of myself,” she said. “But, thanks for the concern.”

  “It's tempting fate for a young woman to be out alone, on a highway, at night. What if you experienced a flat tire? Or what if an assailant had cornered you at a deserted rest area? Don’t you have any concept of the danger you put yourself in?” Lyn shook her head. “Harry would have had a fit if anything had happened to you in transit.”

  “I wouldn't have been too happy about that, either,” Dani said, hearing the dryness in her own tone.

  Lyn chuckled. “I should imagine not. Why didn't you simply fly?”

  “Do you have any idea of the cost of an airline ticket?”

  Her stepmother shook her head “Your father would have gladly paid your fare. I know he told you that.”

  “He did. But, I pay my own bills. I don't owe anyone anything. I prefer to keep it that way. Thank you very much,” Dani said with a hint of sharpness to her voice. “Besides, flying means renting a car or depending on someone else for transportation. Neither of those options were particularly appealing.”

  Lyn nodded. “Especially when you weren't certain you could actually depend on us and money is rather tight?”

  “I wouldn’t have put it that way,” Dani answered, not quite managing to squelch another yawn. “Besides, I had several
job interviews scheduled over the past few days. It only made sense to drive.”

  “I’ll say it again. You look tired.”

  “I am.”

  “I've had your rooms made ready for you. They've been waiting for you for the last few weeks.”

  “I had to finish out my commitments before I could come,” Dani explained.

  “Of course. That's what you told your father,” Lyn allowed. “How did the job interviews go?”

  “Pretty good, I think. I’ll know in a week or so if they’re going to offer me any of the jobs I interviewed for.”

  “Is the school in Indianapolis big?”

  “Yes. It’s a high school with eighteen hundred plus students.”

  “Do you really want to teach in a high school that large?” Lyn asked.

  “It wouldn’t be my first choice.”

  “Then don’t take the job, if they offer it,” Lyn replied.

  “I have other opportunities. I’ve interviewed with two small liberal arts colleges and a community college. Teaching at that level would be a change for me. Probably a good change. It would give me the opportunity to work on my own art more. I’m also doing some active discerning about the will of God for my life. But exploring steady employment possibilities seemed the first step in that.”

  Lyn nodded. “You’ve had a lot of things change for you lately. You should take some time for yourself and think about what you want to do with your life. If you didn’t teach art, what would you want to do?”

  “I could go back to school, take my doctorate. I’ve thought about that. I’ve also thought about simply focusing on my art full time. I have enough money in the bank to be able to be able to concentrate on my art. Mother would have liked to see me do that.”

  Lyn nodded again and smiled. “She would have, indeed.” The she added, more cautiously, “You used the word, ‘discerning’. Are you thinking about becoming a member of the clergy?”

  “I’ve been contemplating becoming a nun,” Dani said.