Barbara Silkstone - Wendy Darlin 02 - London Broil Read Online Free PDF Page A

figure seemed to be smiling at me, sharing a secret. The garden was romance and mystery. And that brought Roger to my mind.
    Benny motioned to a weathered teak bench nestled in the shade of a small willow tree. “Let’s enjoy the morning before the heat spoils it.”
    I sat next to him, wondering what Roger was doing.
    “May I intrude on your thoughts?”
    He didn’t wait for my answer. “You care about Roger. You’re thinking about him now.”
    How could this stranger see into the recesses of my heart?
    “Our dear friend wouldn’t be pleased I was sharing this information with you, but I feel there is a special connection there.” He put his hand over mine. “I’d be remiss if I did not tell you that you are not hiding your feelings very well.”
    I shook my head.
    “No. This is a good thing. Dr. Roger Jolley needs someone to care about him. The man takes too many risks and his heart is too soft. He often takes in strays to his detriment. He needs someone to say ‘no’ for him.”
    “I’m sure he’s just pursuing his passion.”
    “Or is his passion pursuing him?”
    “What do you mean?”
    “I’ll tell you only because I sense you care about him, and you will need to know what pushes him to extremes to bring back lost treasures. He can become obsessed with answering the prayers of those who’ve lost something of great value.”
    I felt like a traitor letting Roger’s client talk behind his back. And yet… I did want to know. In many ways, Dr. Roger Jolley was an enigma.
    A deep breath escaped Benny’s lips, “When Roger was not quite ten years old, his baby brother was kidnapped. The child was never found.”
    “Oh… no!”
    Benny touched my hand, taking it in his own. “He’s on a constant quest, but it’s not always about an antiquity. And so, my dear, if at times he’s cavalier and irritating, it’s an act, a shield. What he really needs is one person to be there for him to add balance to his life. Perhaps that is you. Look after each other.”
    Two butterflies played tag in a patch of lavender and clover, oblivious to a wren stalking them from the perch of a tiny birdhouse. There was a lump in my throat. I changed the subject.
    “Oh dear!” Benny muttered.
    “What?” I turned my head in the direction he was looking.
    “My shrubberies have all but died off. Look at them. The heat has killed them.” He pointed to a bank of browned bushes that clung to the townhouse and traveled on a trellis up to the bedroom windows.
    “When I first bought this house, the grounds were in a state of neglect and disrepair. This patch of land has become my refuge, my garden of constant surprises.” He shook his head. “How sad. I tried so hard and still my plants are dying.”
    “This heat wave has to pass,” I said as I studied the wisteria and jasmine struggling to climb from the house and travel the brick wall that enclosed the yard. I noticed a heavy padlock on the small service gate at the rear of the garden. “What’s that little cottage in the corner?” I pointed to a tiny shed.
    Benny smiled. “That pretty little place is my hideout. On cool days, I go there to be alone and putter with my pots and soil. It’s a gardener’s shed for tools, plant food, and paint. I’m planning on painting those tiny fences around the gnome’s flower bed as soon as the heat wave ends.” He stood and extended his hand to me. “I have some business to attend to in my library. Will you be able to occupy yourself?”
    “Well…” I hesitated. “I’d like to call Roger.”
    He touched the tip of my nose. “Silly girl. Even as we speak he is racing back from Cairo to be at your side and to retrieve the thirteenth Boy. Now make yourself comfortable. My house is your house. I’ll set our dinner reservations for nine. Enjoy your day.”
    Hildy and Holly came running as Benny stood. The fowl beggars were almost as tall as he. I looked at their nippy yellow beaks.
    “Can I make them dance?”
    He laughed.