Free What the Cat Saw by Carolyn Hart Page B

faced forward, dark eyes beneath a mat of wiry black curls in a huge head framed by curved horns, massive shoulders, short legs, and shaggy brown hair.
    Nela sat to one side of the conference table in a straight chair. Six black leather swivel chairs were occupied, leaving a half dozenor so empty at the far end of the table. The delivery of the mail had given her the chance to meet both Grace Webster, Blythe’s sister, and Peter Owens, the director of publications. It had been interesting when she issued Blythe’s summons to each staff member to be in the conference room at ten o’clock instead of eleven. She would have expected surprise. There had been wariness, but no surprise.
    In what kind of workplace was a peremptory summons treated as if it were business as usual?
    She looked with interest around the room. Cole Hamilton fiddled with a pen, making marks on the legal pad. Francis Garth sat with his arms folded. He reminded her of the buffalo in the far mural. All he lacked were horns and short legs.
    Her gaze paused on Abby Andrews. Nela thought that Chloe’s description of the new assistant curator didn’t do her justice. Abby was a classically lovely blonde with perfect bone structure. Her brows could have used a bit of darkening, but her deep violet eyes were striking. At the moment, she sat in frozen stillness as if she might shatter if she moved.
    Why was she so tense?
    Nela had no doubt that Blythe’s younger sister Grace was trouble waiting to happen. Grace tapped her pen on the tabletop.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
Her rounded face was not unpleasant, but she was clearly combative.
    The quarter hour chimed.
    Robbie Powell brushed back a lock of brightly blond hair.
    Nela made a quick link. Tab Hunter in
Damn Yankees
but with longer hair. She knew Chloe would agree.
    “I’m expecting a call from a Dallas newspaper. I may be able to place a feature story on that research into antibiotic overuse in stock.I had to change the time. And now we’re sitting here, waiting.” Robbie kept his tone light. “I assumed something important had occurred, but neither the trustee nor the director have shown up after the imperial summons.” Robbie straightened a heavy gold cuff link in his blue oxford cloth shirt. His blue blazer was a perfect fit. He had the patina of a man at home in meetings, always sure to know everyone’s name, quick with a smile and compliment.
    Nela was good at reading moods, and beneath Robbie’s surface charm, she sensed anger.
    Louise was placating. “They’ll be here soon. There’s been an upsetting development.”
    The faces around the table were abruptly alert. There was unmistakable tension.
    Francis cleared his throat. “What development?”
    Louise didn’t meet his gaze. “It will be better for Blythe to explain.”
    Peter Owens shifted in his seat. “Ah, well, we’re on company time.” His comment was smooth, but he, too, looked uncomfortable. A lean man with black horn rims perched in wiry dark hair, he had wide-set brown eyes, a thin nose, and sharp chin. His good quality but well-worn tweed jacket with leather elbow patches made him look professorial. “How about some of Mama Kay’s sweet rolls? A little sugar will lift your spirits, Robbie.”
    Louise looked at Nela. “Please serve the sweet rolls and coffee now. Except for Blythe and Hollis.”
    Nela warmed the sweet rolls and carried the serving plate to Louise. Nela poured coffee into Haklo Foundation mugs, gold letters on a dark green background, and served them.
    Peter nodded his thanks, then lifted his mug. “Ladies and gentlemen, a toast to our newest addition. Welcome to Haklo Foundation,Nela. We enjoy your sister. She’s definitely a breath of freshness in this fusty atmosphere. Have you heard a report from Tahiti?”
    Nela responded to his genuine interest. “Just a call Friday night to say they arrived safely and everything was fantastic.”
    “Fantastic in all caps?” But his voice was kind.
    Nela smiled.