Past Betrayals, Past Loves Read online

  Past Betrayals, Past Loves

  By Janet Lane-Walters

  Digital ISBNs

  EPUB 978-1-77299-996-9

  Kindle 978-1-77299-997-6

  WEB 978-1-77299-998-3

  Amazon Print 978-1-77299-999-0

  Copyright 2015 by Janet Lane Walters

  Cover Art by Michele Lee

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

  Chapter 1

  Egypt

  In her rush to reach the ringing cell phone she’d left on the kitchen counter, Astrid Logan nearly sprawled on the suitcases cluttering the apartment hallway. She grabbed the cell on the seventh ring. A deep voice spoke her name and her heart thudded in her chest. “Clive?” Had something happened to her father? Was there a problem at Antiquities?

  “Been trying to reach you for hours. Where have you been?”

  Astrid sucked in a breath. “At school. Dad knows how to reach me there.” She sank to the floor. “What’s wrong with him?”

  “He had a stroke.”

  “How is he?” She swallowed the panic rising like lava in a volcano about to erupt.

  “Doctor believes he’ll recover completely but he’ll need time in rehab.”

  Though this news brought a moment of relief as a nurse she knew no news was a hundred percent certain. “When did this happen and where?”

  “This morning at the gallery. We were discussing the placement of several new pieces. He groaned and collapsed. Ambulance arrived maybe fifteen minutes later.”

  Astrid frowned. What was he holding back? Her father liked and trusted his younger assistant but for no reason she could discover Clive always made her edgy. “Did they do tests?”

  “CAT scan. Then they gave him some kind of special Intravenous. Guess this will make you change your summer plans.”

  “Why should I?” Clive had been her father’s assistant at the gallery for a year and a half. He should know she spent every summer at Antiquities.

  “Then you’re really not coming.”

  “What are you talking about? I had planned to drive down tomorrow.” Since she’d turned twelve she’d spent every summer at the shop with her dad. In sixteen years she knew as much about the shop as her father did.

  “Thought your father said you wouldn’t be here. Never mind. It’s just…I was going to move into his apartment.’

  “Why?”

  “To keep an eye on the gallery.”

  Astrid frowned. That made no sense. The thirty-year-old playboy had an expensive co-op on the river. “Isn’t there a sophisticated alarm system?”

  “Alarms can be by-passed.”

  “Have there been problems?”

  “In a way. A few pieces we’ve displayed have gone missing and your dad wouldn’t hear of calling the police.”

  “I see.” She didn’t but once she was sure her father was recovering she intended to speak to him and then the police.

  “When are you coming?”

  “As soon as I pack the car.”

  “Imagine you’ll arrive between five and six. I’ll close the shop and meet you at the hospital.”

  “No need. I have keys to the apartment and the shop. After I check on Dad I’ll stop by the gallery.” She hung up and started to call the hospital. Why? The nurses would never disclose the results of the tests over the phone. They would merely confirm her father was a patient. She wasn’t sure she was listed as one of the people to receive information.

  She made a quick check of the nearly empty apartment. Her furniture was in storage until she found a place closer to the university where she would begin a graduate program in September.

  Twenty minutes later she’d packed the car. On the way out of town she dropped the keys at the real estate agency and began the four-hour trip to Rockleigh, the Hudson River village where her father lived.

  During the drive she tried not to think about him. If she didn’t dwell on her fears they wouldn’t come true. Think positive. She recalled her father’s excitement over the changes he and Clive had made at Antiquities and the enthusiasm over a new customer. What would happen to the gallery if he wasn’t there? She gripped the wheel and shifted mental gears.

  Astrid parked in the hospital lot and stopped at the information desk. With a visitor’s pass in hand she went to the third floor and found her father’s room. The odors, the moans and cries, the bustle of activity made her feel as though she’d entered an alien land. Her job as a school nurse held none of these scenes. She paused in the doorway of the semi-private room. One bed was empty. Her father lay in the window bed.

  For a moment she stared. How had he aged so much since the last time she’d seen him? Easter had been just two and a half months ago. During their weekly phone calls he’d sounded the way he always had. She approached the bed, checked the intravenous side and the rate and looked at the oxygen meter on the wall. Seemed fine.

  “Dad.”

  He opened his eyes and tried to smile. She clasped his hand. His words were so garbled she couldn’t decipher them. Tears threatened. She swallowed against the lump in her throat.

  “Don’t worry about Antiquities. I’ll keep Clive in line. I’ll have the records in order by the time you’re back.”

  Her words seemed to give him peace. The lines around his mouth relaxed. Until the urge to cry grew too strong she remained. “I’m going to the apartment, then the gallery. I’ll be back this evening.”

  He mouthed a word.

  “Good?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  Outside the room she pulled a tissue from her bag and wiped her eyes. At the nurses’ station she paused. “I’m Mr. Logan’s daughter. How is he?”

  A gray-haired woman looked up. “He’s stable and responding to treatment. We were able to start treatment in less than an hour after the stroke.”

  “Thank you.” Astrid cleared her throat. “I’m a nurse.” She asked a series of questions about the prognosis and course of treatment.

  “You’ll have to speak to the doctor.’

  Astrid jotted her cell phone number on a piece of paper. “Use this to contact me if anything happens. Do you have the doctor’s number?”

  “Of course.” The nurse gave Astrid a name and number. She tucked them in her purse and turned to leave.

  After paying the parking fee she drove to Antiquities and pulled into the paved area behind the building. As she took two suitcases from the trunk Mrs. Rayson, her father’s tenant and long-time friend stepped onto the deck. “Astrid, I’m so glad you’re here. That Clive said you weren’t coming this summer.”

  “He misunderstood Dad. Probably confused my decision to resign my position at the school and go to grad school with my summer plans. You know how Dad sometimes carries on two conversations at the same time.”

  Mrs. Rayson laughed. “How true. What happened to Lloyd this morning was dreadful. I was so scared.”

  “Were you there?”

  The older woman nodded. “Heard him arguing with Clive so I stepped into the store. Saw Lloyd collapse. Called 911. That Clive stood and stared.”

  “Shock.” Astrid started up the steps. Would Clive have called an ambulance? She chewed on her lower lip. She couldn’t let her distrust of the man color her opinion.

  “How is Lloyd? I wanted to visit but wasn’t sure if he was in Intensive Care or a regular room.”

  “He’s on the third floor. I
stopped on my way here.” Astrid sighed. “He looked so old and fragile.”

  Sarah Rayson hugged Astrid. “He’ll be fine.”

  “I’ll take that as a prophecy. Let me unload the car. Then I need to check the gallery.”

  “Come to dinner. Around six thirty.”

  “I’d like that. Then we can go visit Dad.”

  Astrid opened the door and stepped into the apartment’s main room. She turned on the air conditioner hoping the musty aroma would vanish. The large picture window showed a view of the Hudson River. Breakfast dishes were still on the counter dividing the living room from the kitchen. Stacks of books covered the couch, chairs and coffee table.

  A groan escaped. Not only would she have to organize the gallery’s records she would have to make order here. She carried the suitcases to the bedroom she used when she visited. At least the clutter hadn’t invaded her space. After several trips to the car she stepped into the bathroom and splashed cold water on her face.

  What had caused Dad and Clive quarrel? They seldom disagreed. Would Clive tell her?

  She completed unpacking the car and walked around to the front door of Antiquities. When she entered she turned a full circle. The usual disorganized appearance had vanished. The enormous room was now broken into small areas. Dividers, wood, and glass separated the displays.

  “Astrid.”

  Clive strode toward her. The tall blond man moved with a predatory grace. He looked like the Viking hero some of her acquaintances had dubbed him. He was handsome but the coldness of his blue eyes made her wary. “Hello, Clive.”

  “You made good time. Have you seen your dad?”

  “I stopped at the hospital before I came here.” A sigh escaped. “I can’t believe he had a stroke. He’s always been so healthy.”

  Clive clasped her hand. “He’s tough. Before long he’ll be back cluttering the place.”

  “Hope not. You’ve achieved wonders here.” She tried to free her hands. He tugged her closer. “The apartment looks like a magpie’s next.”

  “Good description.” He brushed his lips over hers.

  Astrid shook her head. She wanted to wipe her mouth. Would he start another pursuit this summer? “Let’s stick to business. I like the arrangement of the stock.”

  “A suggestion from a new customer. Rich playboy type but has good taste. Garrett and your dad connected. Act like they’ve known each other for years.”

  She crossed her arms on her chest. “Why were you and Dad arguing?”

  He groaned. “Guess you talked to nosy Sarah. Was more like a heated discussion about displaying new pieces he recently found. Bought a sealed box at a sale. Contained an odd assortment.”

  “How odd?”

  He laughed. “Nothing bad. Mostly a collection of Victorian jewelry and several old pieces. He wanted to research them before they were offered for sale. I wanted to price them immediately. You know how hard it is to date the things we acquire.”

  She nodded. “So where are they?”

  “In the vault with most of the jewelry. I can’t get to them>”

  “I…” She cut her response. She knew the code for the vault and would see what he meant in the morning.

  He grasped her arm. “I’ll show you some things I kept out and introduce you to Paula Winters. She’s photographing a number of our best items for a catalogue we’re launching.”

  “Another suggestion from Dad’s new friend?”

  “In a way.” He strode to the Egyptian area. “Astrid. Paula Winters. Astrid is Lloyd’s daughter. She’s here for the summer. Then it’s back upstate.”

  Astrid didn’t contradict him. Her plans weren’t his business.

  The woman turned. “Teacher?” She gazed at Clive.

  “School nurse.” Astrid read admiration for Clive in Paula’s eyes. Did Clive return the interest? He usually went for petite and curvy. Paula was slim, almost boyish. The blunt cut of her shoulder-length auburn hair reminded Astrid of styles she’d seen in ancient Egyptian women.

  Paula’s crooked grin warmed Astrid. “Glad to finally meet you. Your dad talks about you a lot.”

  “Don’t believe everything he says. What are you photographing today?” Astrid asked.

  “Starting with the Egyptian collection. The new pieces are stunning. Clive thinks it’s a good idea to have a visual record of the valuable items in the shop.”

  “Astrid turned to him. “Then there is a problem here at Antiquities.”

  “I told you about the several missing pieces.”

  “Thieves?”

  “I hope not but this has been going on since a few weeks after Easter.”

  Astrid frowned. Why hadn’t Dad mentioned the problem? She edged toward the stand where a necklace and crown were displayed on a black velvet cloth. Where had she seen them before? The necklace resembled a wide collar. Semi-circles of a pale gold metal were inlaid with Lapis. From the last row, carnelians dangled. The headband of the crown made from the same metal had flowers of inlaid lapis with carnelian centers.

  “Are these the pieces you and Dad argued about?”

  Clive nodded. “He wanted tem placed in the vault.”

  “Why have you displayed them?” She decided to argue for the pieces to be stored. Did he know she could open the vault?

  “One. I can’t open the vault and two, they’re too attractive to hide.”

  Astrid brushed a finger over one of the dangles. Sadness washed through her. As though under a spell she lifted the necklace. Waves of dizziness rocked her.

  * * *

  Seshat stood at the entrance to her workroom built against the wall surrounding the villa. She stared into the garden. Though chaos ruled the Two Lands, in this house at a distance from Thebes, only echoes of the trouble were heard. How fortunate that her father, Nomarch Sehetep, had distanced himself from the politics of both halves of the divided land.

  She heard her younger sister giggle and watched her run past the flowerbeds to the workroom. “What have you done now?”

  “Spied on Father,” Tiy said.

  Seshat shook her head. Tiy hovered between childhood and womanhood. She delighted in making mischief. Seshat left the doorway and reached for the tallies of the recent harvest.

  “Don’t you want to know what I heard and what I saw?’ Tiy’s warm brown eyes sparkled with secrets.

  “Tell me.”

  “We have guests. From Thebes. Oh, Seshat, they are the most handsome men I’ve ever seen. They seek Father’s support. One of them wants the Double Crown. Maybe he will choose you as his wife and ignore Nefru.”

  Seshat sighed. If she were chosen, Nefru, daughter of their father’s dead first wife, would be furious. Though Seshat’s mother had been a princess of a past dynasty, Nefru denied the claim. Anyone seeking Sehetep’s support would choose the eldest daughter. Since no sons had been born to the house, Nefru’s spouse would claim the nome when Sehetep left this world.

  “We’re to eat the evening meal with them,” Tiy said. “Nefru stamped her food when she heard. When those men see you they won’t look at her.”

  Seshat shook her head. Any avoidance of her older sister would bring spiteful remarks. Besides, Seshat had no desire to leave her father. Wasn’t she his right hand and his star to comfort his last days? She lifted a quill and began to record the number of baskets of harvested grain.

  Before she finished the tally, Bastet, her aging maidservant entered the workroom. “Come, child, you must make ready for the evening.”

  Seshat out her quill and papyrus aside and followed the elderly woman to the bathing room. After washing, her skin was rubbed with scented oil. Bastet combed her hair. Not for Seshat a shaved head and a hot, heavy wig. The maid applied kohl to make Seshat’s gray eyes seem more luminous and darker.

  “What will you wear?” Bastet asked. “These men have come from Thebes. You don’t want to appear as a country maiden.”

  Seshat chose a robe of fine linen that covered her body from beneath her b
reasts to her ankles. The broad straps formed a vee as they crossed her shoulders. For jewelry, she selected the necklace her mother had left her. The electrum semi-circles of the collar where inlaid with lapis lazuli. Carnelians hung from the circles and dangled just above her breasts.

  “Will you wear the crown?”

  Seshat shook her head. She was sure Nefru would wear her finest linen sheath and adorn herself with jewels. Her wig would be ornamented as well. “A subtle touch is best.”

  She and Tiy entered the large hall where their father, sister and the guests waited. Sehetep smiled. “Daughters, come and meet our visitors. Seshat, how like your mother you look this day. She was the loveliest flower in my garden. You are indeed the star to delight my last days.”

  Nefru’s lips thinned. She glared. Rings flittered on her fingers. Her armbands were studded with gems. The nipples of her heavy breasts had been colored with henna.

  Seshat ignored her sister’s disapproval. She kept her eyelids lowered as her father drew her toward the guests. “Mermeshu, Commander of the Army, and Intef, his advisor, my daughters Seshat and Tiy.”

  Seshat glanced at the men. Both wore kilts and tunics. A jeweled pectoral gleamed against the pale linen of Mermeshu’s tunic. The men were taller than her father. Mermeshu had the arms and shoulders of an archer. Though of slighter build, Intef seemed fit. She shuddered. His eyes held the coldness of a serpent.

  Mermeshu’s dark eyes captured her gaze. As though to see her better he smiled and stepped back. Her skin felt hot beneath his appraising stare. A throbbing began low in her belly and brought an urge to touch and be touched by him. Her nipples tightened. His smile broadened.

  In that instant, Seshat knew she desired this man for all eternity. Hathor, goddess of love, bring him to my side. Fill him with desire for only me. Let him see my beauty and grace. Bring him to me.

  Nefru clapped her hands. The serving maids set the individual tables before Sehetep’s chair and at the stools for the others. Since this was the main meal of the day course followed course. Beef, lamb and goose were served with lentils, carrots and spinach. Wine and beer were lavishly offered. The meal ended with melons, figs and dates. Though Seshat ate, she tasted nothing.