made sure she hadn’t drooled during her long nap. With a quick fix, she wrapped her pashmina around her and was ready for the next leg of her journey. She pulled the paper from her tote bag. “Edward will meet you at baggage claim.” Edward. Edward. Edward, she repeated silently. That was part of her “treatment”—to repeat words until they stuck.
As she reached the carousel, spinning with suitcases, backpacks, golf clubs, and an assortment of packages, she saw a gentleman with a sign: CHARLOTTE HANSEN. That was easy, she said to herself. She gave him a wave, and he quickly approached her, tipped his chauffeur’s cap, and asked her to describe her luggage. Once he spotted the suitcases, he grabbed them and led her to the town car awaiting them.
“Myra and Charles are the epitome of grace and hospitality,” she remarked to Edward.
“They are indeed.”
After the thirty-minute ride from the airport, the large iron gates of the farm loomed before them. It was just as she remembered. The trees, the gardens, the landscaping. All so meticulous. She wondered if the old swing was still in the back. Knowing Myra, it probably was. Charlotte hoped so. She wouldn’t mind sitting on it again and letting the air blow through her hair.
The sound of dogs barking their welcome made her smile as Myra flung the front door open. “Charlotte! So good to see you!” Big, big hugs, and kisses on both cheeks. Myra stepped back to take a good look at her friend. “My dear, I think you’ve come to the right place.” Charlotte looked weary, but there was still a gleam in her eyes.
“Myra, I cannot thank you and Charles enough for rescuing me from God knows what.”
“You just relax, and we’ll sort it all out. Come. Follow me. We’ll get you settled, and then we can have an aperitif.”
“Sounds divine.” Charlotte linked arms with Myra as Annie flew into the foyer.
“I have an arm, too,” she announced, linking herself to the two other women, with Charles toting the luggage behind them.
“Leave it to Fergus to be invisible when it comes to heavy lifting,” Charles teased Annie.
“I think he’s minding the roast,” Annie poked back.
“If that’s how to describe what he’s doing, then indeed. I fear that Fergus’s only talent in the kitchen is stuffing his mouth,” Charles reminded everyone.
“Charles, be kind. Fergus is the best cleanup man for your KP duty!” Myra chided him.
“I will leave you women to chat and unwind before Fergus has a chance to ruin my dinner.” With that, Charles chuckled and left the three women to gab.
Myra and Annie helped Charlotte unpack as they caught each other up on superficial things. Myra was careful not to prod Charlotte too much. She wanted Charlotte to offer the information they needed freely and not feel that she was being grilled for it. If only to save her any embarrassment.
Myra gave Charlotte a big hug, and Annie wrapped her arms around both of them.
“Freshen up, dear. Charles will call us when we are about to start the festivities.”
“I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble. The tickets and the limo service were over the top.”
Myra and Annie gave her a wry look. “You can’t be serious,” Annie hooted. “You’re dealing with us, remember?”
Loud laughter filled the room.
“I cannot tell you how much better I feel right now.” Tears started to well in Charlotte’s eyes.
“And you just got here. Just wait until dinner! You will feel like you died and went to heaven,” Annie said, smacking her lips.
* * *
When Myra made her way back to the kitchen, she noticed a slightly grim expression on Charles’s face. “What is it, dear?”
Charles cleared his throat. “We have some new information about the ‘miracle doctors.’ Avery sent it a short while ago. Fergus is downstairs, sorting it out.”
“Charles, you know the rules,” Myra admonished him.
“Yes, old girl, I do. My point is, we are going to have to think seriously about this situation, gather the intel from Nikki, then read Avery’s report. There is definitely something amiss.”
Myra took a deep breath. “At least she’s here and out from under them.”
“For now,” Charles reminded her.
“Yes, for now, and she isn’t leaving until we get to the bottom of this.” Myra pecked him on the cheek and patted his fanny. “That roast smells divine.” She knew how to change the subject, even if it was only on the surface she thought as she headed to the dining room.