Residents stepped out on their decks to watch as Harriett and Jo were marched back toward the Dunn mansion. Apparently, the people of Culling Pointe weren’t accustomed to having trespassers nabbed on their land. As Jo and Harriett approached the party, the guests all stopped to look. Only the children didn’t seem to care.
“There you are!” called a voice behind them. “I’ve been looking all over for you two. What’s going on here?”
“You know these women?” Chertov barked.
“Of course!” Claude exclaimed, as if Harriett and Jo were the guests of honor. “They’re here for the party. They’re both friends of Leonard.”
That little lie seemed to give the bodyguard pause. “They were trespassing on private property. Mr. Harding wants to see them.”
“What? Why?” Claude asked with a confused smile, as though nothing he’d said made any sense to her.
“It’s okay,” Harriett assured her. “We’re looking forward to meeting Mr. Harding, too.”
“Still, there’s no need for that.” Claude pointed daintily at the gun. “I’ll take the ladies up to meet Spencer right now.”
When Chertov hesitated, Claude pulled out her cell phone. “Would you like to check with the boss?” she asked. “I can ring him up, if you like.”
When the bodyguard seemed uncertain, Claude began to dial.
“Fine,” he barked. “Just tell Mr. Harding I delivered them.”
“Of course,” Claude replied, her voice saccharine sweet.
“Thanks,” Jo told her as the bodyguard stomped away.
“I am so terribly sorry,” Claude told them. “Some of the security people here are drunk with power. Is there anything I can do to make up for that? A couple of really strong drinks, maybe? A massage from a hot young lifeguard?”
“We’d like to meet Spencer Harding. And have a look upstairs,” Harriett announced, pointing up at the roof deck.
Claude appeared mystified, but laughed nonetheless. “Spencer’s a creep and there are houses with much better views, if that’s your thing.”
“It’s not,” Harriett said. “I’ve been to Jackson Dunn’s Memorial Day party every summer for the past five years, and I’ve never once been invited up to the roof deck. I’d like to see what’s there.”
Claude’s slim smile conveyed more respect than amusement. “I wish I could take you,” she said. “But I can’t afford to get canned at the moment. Let’s grab Leonard and ask him to escort us. He can do whatever he wants around here. Though I promise, unless you like wrinkled old men, you really haven’t been missing much.”
She called out to Leonard, who was still cavorting in the surf with the guests’ children. When he heard Claude, he ran toward her, grabbing a shirt and a towel off a lounge chair as he passed.
“Sorry to bug you, sweetheart,” Claude said.
“You never bug me,” he told her, planting a kiss on her lips. “What’s up?”
“The ladies would like to see the roof and meet Spencer Harding,” Claude told him. “Would you mind escorting us?”
Leonard grimaced as he toweled his hair dry. “You wanna go up to the roof, let’s all go up to the roof. But why in the hell do you want to meet Harding? The man’s got the personality of a pit viper.”
“Told you,” Claude said.
“We’re worried about his wife,” Harriett replied.
“Oh? You know Rosamund?” Leonard asked.
“She’s a client of mine,” Jo said.
“Ah. Lovely girl. Way too good for that schmuck.”
“Yes, we agree,” Jo said.
“Well, come on, then.” Leonard led the way into the Dunn house. “But if he bites your head off, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
When the four of them emerged on the roof, Jo briefly wondered what all the fuss was about. Fifty middle-aged men mingled in groups of five or six. Most wore shorts and sandals. Aside from the watches on their wrists, few ostentatious signs of wealth were visible. It looked like a corporate retreat. Then, as Jo began to focus in on the faces, an uncanny feeling settled over her. She knew almost all of them, despite the fact that she’d never met any of them. Most were celebrities, but none were actors or entertainers. Tabloid paparazzi would have walked right past them. The moves they made were dutifully chronicled not by tabloids, but by reporters from the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times. These were men who ran the world.
None of the men on the roof stopped talking or stared when Claude, Jo, and Harriett made their way through the crowd. There were other women on the roof, after all. Two swimsuited lifeguards were mingling with a group of men. As Jo passed, she picked up a snippet about private swim lessons. But the atmosphere changed after their arrival. Spines straightened. The laughter sounded a little less raucous and the conversations a bit more polite.
“Hang out here with Claude for a sec and let me see if I can find Harding for you,” Leonard said.
Harriett sauntered over to the railing on the side of the deck that looked over the Pointe. She’d taken her hands out of her pockets and Jo could see that she had something clenched in her fists. “I always wondered what secret things happened here on the roof, but I didn’t want to get in the way. So I hung out downstairs with all the other women. I met doctors. And judges. And Oscar-winning actresses.” She looked back over her shoulder, and her eyes landed on Claude. “Do you know what we all talked about?”
“What?” Claude went to stand beside Harriett.
“We talked about what was going on up here on the roof.”
“Is it everything you were expecting?” Claude asked.
“Oh yes.” The grin spreading across Harriett’s face worried Jo.
“Harriett?” It was Chase’s voice.
Jo spied him making his way across the roof, wearing a constipated smirk that he was trying to pass off as a smile. Harriett didn’t bother to look.
“What are you doing up here?” he whispered angrily when he reached them.
Claude turned around to face him. “Leonard brought them,” she said.
Chase reared backward, the drink in his hand sloshing over the rim of its glass. “My apologies. I’m their escort,” he responded. “Chase Osborne.”
“A pleasure,” Claude said unconvincingly.
“Would you mind if I had a word with my wife for a moment?”
“Ex-wife,” Harriett corrected him, without turning around.
“Of course. I’ll just find out what’s keeping Leonard and Spencer.” Claude set off across the roof, but Jo didn’t bother to move.
“What the hell, Harriett,” Jo heard Chase whisper. “We had a deal. We said we’d stay out of each other’s business.”
“And now I’ve let you down,” Harriett said. “How inconsiderate of me. Don’t worry, I’ll be out of your hair in a moment.”
Jo glanced over at Harriett just in time to see her open her hands and toss a thousand tiny seeds off the balcony and into the air. The two women watched as they floated down and settled on the land below.
“What was that? What the hell are you up to?” Chase bent over the railing to look.