Clare gave the men a minute or two and then followed them into the kitchen. Archer was at the kitchen table. Jake was spooning coffee into a machine.
“Good morning, Archer,” Clare said.
Archer scowled at the sight of her in the robe.
“You okay?” he demanded aggressively.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Did you want to speak to Jake or are you here to discuss your plans for the foundation?”
“I’m here to talk to you. What the hell are you doing running around in a robe at this hour?”
“I’m doing my laundry.” She waved the T-shirt. “I didn’t pack for an extended stay here in Stone Canyon. Ran out of fresh clothes yesterday. If you’ll excuse me, I’ll go get dressed.” Turning on her heel, she headed for the door. “Maybe you’ll be in a better mood when I come back.”
“Don’t count on it,” Jake said in low tones as she walked past him.
She frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
Jake acted as if he hadn’t heard her.
She spun back around to confront Archer. “Am I missing something here?”
Archer glowered. “We’ll talk when you’re decent.”
She glanced pointedly down at the white robe that enveloped her from neck to toes. “I am decent.”
“You should probably get dressed, Clare,” Jake said.
She did not like the undercurrents that were flowing between Jake and Archer, but it was clear that neither man was going to explain. Probably a guy thing, she thought.
Stifling a sigh of exasperation, she went down the hall to her bedroom.
It took her only a few minutes to put on the clean panties and bra, a T-shirt and one of two pairs of black trousers. Amazing how simple it was to get dressed when one’s wardrobe was so limited, she thought. Now that she had decided to stay on in Stone Canyon for a while, she really would have to go shopping.
Extending her stay in Stone Canyon brought up other issues, she reminded herself. She was not ready to discuss her conspiracy theories with anyone other than Elizabeth and Jake. She was going to need a good excuse for hanging around, one that would satisfy Archer and everyone else who might wonder why she was still in town.
Luckily, Archer had handed her a ready-made reason for spending a little more time in Stone Canyon.
She went back into the kitchen. The bristly atmosphere had not changed. What was going on here?
“Anything new on Valerie Shipley’s death?” she asked, for want of a better ice breaker.
Archer’s expression darkened further. “Owen says they expect the autopsy results Tuesday. But he’s convinced it was an accident or suicide.”
“Seeing me the other night upset her,” Clare said quietly.
“What happened wasn’t your fault,” Archer said forcefully. “Valerie was all messed up. It’s just too damn bad that Owen didn’t get her into rehab in time. He told me she refused to go and he was reluctant to push her too hard.”
Clare nodded.
“Jake says you’re going to stick around for a while,” Archer said.
She sat down at the table facing him. “That’s right.”
“Why?” Archer’s bushy brows snapped together, creating a prickly thicket above his assertive nose. “Last time we talked you made it clear you couldn’t wait to go back to San Francisco.”
“A Stone Canyon Police Department detective suggested I do otherwise,” she said mildly.
“I’ll deal with the cops.”
“I’ve also decided that I ought to give your foundation plans some serious consideration,” she said smoothly. “I might as well do that here. It’s not like I have a job waiting for me back in San Francisco.”
“Huh.” Archer should have looked triumphant but he didn’t. Instead he gave Jake a disapproving glance and then turned back to her. “Where are you planning to stay while you’re considering my offer?”
The question caught her flat-footed. Should have seen that one coming, she thought. The truth was, she hadn’t given the matter any thought at all. It took every ounce of willpower she possessed not to look at Jake.
“I’ll find a hotel,” she began.
Jake looked at Archer. “She’ll stay here with me.”
It was a statement of fact, not a suggestion or an invitation.
Archer and Clare both looked at him. Clare couldn’t think of anything to say. Evidently Archer was equally at a loss for words.
Jake punched the button to start the coffee.
Archer stalked out of the house a short time later. Jake accompanied him to the door and then returned to the kitchen.
“He was certainly in a foul mood,” Clare observed. “Does he get like that a lot?”
“Archer has a temper,” Jake said neutrally.
She slouched in her chair and jammed her hands into the pockets of her trousers. “I thought he’d be pleased that I’m hanging around to mull over his job offer. Maybe he changed his mind after I got questioned again by the police in a second mysterious death. That kind of thing is not good for the Glazebrook image.”
“That’s not why he’s pissed.”
“What other reason could there be?”
“He’s annoyed because you’re here.”
“Here?”
“With me.”
“What?” She got her mouth closed. “Why should he care if I’m staying with you?”
“You’re his daughter,” Jake said with exaggerated patience. “Fathers always have a problem with the men their daughters are sleeping with when said daughters are not married to the men in question.”
“You’re joking.”
Jake shook his head. “Don’t blame him. Some kind of primitive instinct. Deep in his gut he’s afraid that I’m taking advantage of you. Hell, I’d feel the same way if I had a daughter.”
“I’m thirty-two years old,” she yelped.
“And you were still trying to explain things to your mother yesterday, as I recall.”
“Yes, but she’s my mother.”
“So? Archer is your father.”
“For heaven’s sake, he didn’t even know I existed until a few months ago.”
“Doesn’t make it any easier to deal with.”
Jake’s cool certainty gave her pause. “You seem to have this all figured out,” she said.
“I knew it was going to be a problem.”