“I’m sure he was just trying to be helpful.”
“Oh, yeah.”
“I sense undercurrents,” Elizabeth said.
“So do I,” Clare said. She put on her own dark glasses. “But darned if I have any idea what’s going on.”
They waited while the parking attendant brought Elizabeth’s Mercedes around. When it arrived Elizabeth slipped behind the wheel. Clare got in beside her.
“For what it’s worth,” Elizabeth said, driving out of the resort and onto Camelback Road, “I really don’t think you need to worry too much about Jake Salter. Dad trusts him and that says a lot.”
“Can’t argue with that,” Clare said. “Are you sure you don’t mind running me out to the house?”
“No problem. I don’t have any appointments until this afternoon. Are you bound and determined to fly back to San Francisco tomorrow?”
“That’s the current plan.”
“Well, if you change your mind and stay over another day or two, I’m free tomorrow afternoon. We could go to the spa.”
“Thanks, Liz, but I wasn’t kidding when I told you that my budget is very tight at the moment.”
“My treat.”
“I really don’t—”
“Oh, for pity’s sake. This is me, your sister, remember? I’m not Dad. It’s okay to let me treat you to an afternoon at the spa.”
“We’ll see,” Clare said.
The compact was waiting precisely where Jake had left it in the otherwise empty driveway in front of the Glazebrook house. The fractured windshield glittered in the hot sun.
Clare got out of the car, hitching her bag over her shoulder. She leaned down to look back at Elizabeth.
“Thanks,” she said.
“Call me when you find out whether or not you’ll be staying for another day or two.”
“I will.”
Clare closed the door. Elizabeth drove back down the driveway.
The front door of the big house opened. Archer came out onto the veranda.
“Thought Jake was going to bring you back here this morning,” he said without preamble.
“Elizabeth and I had breakfast. She offered me a lift. It was more convenient. I called the rental company on the way here. They’re going to deliver a replacement car and send a tow truck for this one. They said the new car will be here in about an hour.”
“Good. Too hot to sit out by the pool. Let’s go inside.”
“I thought you would be at the office by now.”
“Been waiting for you.”
Might as well find out what this is all about, Clare thought. She tightened her grip on her purse and walked toward the veranda.
“Sorry about Valerie last night,” Archer said gruffly. “She’s got a problem with the booze these days.”
“I noticed.”
She followed him warily into the house.
“Where’s Myra?” she asked.
“There’s a meeting of the board of directors of the Arts Academy this morning. She’s the president.”
“I see.”
They sat opposite each other on two leather chairs facing the view of the pool and the mountains. The housekeeper brought iced tea.
“I’ll get right to the point,” Archer said. “I know you’ve had trouble finding a new job.”
“Something will turn up sooner or later,” she said, stirring her iced tea with the long swizzle stick.
“Like what?”
“Well, I hear there are a lot of opportunities selling time-shares in Las Vegas.”
“I’m asking you a serious question, damn it.”
She hesitated and then gave a mental shrug. “I’m thinking of opening my own business.”
Archer frowned. “What the devil do you know about running a business?”
“Not much.” She smiled blandly. “But it sounds like fun so I thought, what the heck, why not give it a whirl?”
He narrowed his eyes. “Do you always have to be so damned sarcastic?”
“No. I only get that way when I’m feeling pressured.”
Archer settled deeper into his chair. “Look, I know that the reason you lost your job and your fiancé was probably the gossip that went around after Brad got killed.”
“It didn’t help, that’s for sure.”
“Figured the rumors would die down fairly quickly, to tell you the truth.”
“So did I,” she admitted. “But it doesn’t seem to be working out that way.”
“That’s why I want to offer you a job,” Archer said.
She choked on her iced tea. It took a minute to catch her breath.
“No thanks,” she said automatically.
“Hell, I knew you were going to say that. So damned stubborn.”
She set her half-finished iced tea on the coffee table. “Maybe I should go now.”
“Hear me out first. It’s the least you can do.”
She smiled a little at that. “The least I can do?”
“You’re my daughter, damn it. Not my fault I didn’t know you existed until a few months ago. Your mother had no right to keep that secret from me.”
“She thought she was doing what was best for everyone concerned.”
“Yeah, well, she was wrong.”
Clare exhaled slowly. “I didn’t come here to argue about a decision that was made more than three decades ago and over which I had no control.”
Anger and frustration flashed across Archer’s face. “Why did you come, in that case?”
“Mom insisted.”
Archer grimaced. “Should have guessed.”
“Maybe we should change the subject.”
“Fine by me,” Archer said grimly. “Here’s the deal. I’m thinking of setting up a charitable foundation and I want you to take charge of it.”
She was too flabbergasted to respond. She just sat there, staring at him.
“Well?” Archer said, scowling. “What do you have to say about my offer?”
“I think,” she said, spacing each word with exacting precision, “that setting up a charitable foundation is a terrific idea. You’ve got more money than any one human being needs. You could do a lot of good with it.”
Archer seemed satisfied. “Right.”
“I’m sure you’re aware that foundations require large endowments.”
“I’m not stupid, Clare.”
“Really, really big endowments,” she emphasized. “The kind that can have a serious impact on what is left over for your heirs.”