Free Midnight In The Garden Of Good And Evie by Marianne Stillings

atrium swung wid e, allowing in a distinguished- looking man in a black suit. Mid-sixties, balding, elegant, he held a briefcase in his left hand as though it were a natural extension of his arm.
    “Felix Barlow,” Evie said under her breath. She crossed her arms under her breasts and stared across the garden. While she focused on the lawyer, Max stole a quick look at her alluring breasts, then flicked his glance away. Dumbasses stared and drooled, which pissed women off. Smart men knew how to get a quick eyeful without offending. He considered himself a very smart man.
    Edmunds stepped through the door next, holding it open as Madame Grovda swooped in, chattering away in a blur of Russian. She wore a black velvet dress and a thousand scarves in various shades of red, yellow, and orange, all of which fluttered about her as she walked, giving the impression she was on fire.
    The cook and gardener—Ada Stanley and her husband Earl—shuffled in, neither one apparently enthused about a treasure hunt in which they would not take part.
    The little parade culminated with Lorna, looking pretty in the yellow sundress she’d worn to dinner, and Dabney James, who had slipped his arm through hers and was apparently spouting more “poetry.” His slacks and white shirt made him appear as if he’d just jetted in from Palm Beach. He caught sight of Max and scowled, then returned his attention to the enraptured secretary.
    After the guests had entered, Edmunds released the door and followed a wide flagstone path to the waterfall, where everyone was busy seating themselves.
    Conversation trickled off as Barlow rose from his chair and prepared to address the group, the twenty foot red banana tree at his back making him look like an overdressed castaway.
    A hush fell over the guests. Even the loquacious Madame Grovda had zipped her lips and seemed to be holding her breath. Next to Max, Evie sat on the edge of her chair, her hands folded neatly on her knees, her attention fully on the lawyer. Inhaling, Max let her soft floral scent wrap around his senses like a silk ribbon—a ribbon that tied him into more knots each time he looked at her.
    Barlow cleared his throat, clasped his hands behind him, and began to pace in lawyer like fashion. Max half expected him to begin with, “If it please the court.”
    A smile on his lips, Barlow said, “Welcome to the treasure hunt. Except for the Stanleys and myself, of course, all of you in this room are participants in my late client’s plan to dispose of his sizable fortune through an elaborate game of hide and seek.”
    He paused for a moment, then shifted direction and paced back the way he’d come. “Be that as it may, the game will officially begin as soon as this meeting has concluded and any questions have been answered. You already know who your partners are, and that you have two weeks from midnight tonight to find the final clue and claim the Heyworth estate, which, as of this morning, is worth somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty million dollars.”
    “Nice neighborhood,” Dabney mumbled.
    As Barlow cleared his throat to continue, Edmunds rose from his seat, clutching a thin packet. “Beg pardon, Mr. Barlow.”
    All eyes turned toward Edmunds, who stood looking so regal as to be a long-lost member of the royal family.
    Barlow raised his brows. “What is it, Edmunds?”
    “A package was delivered via certified mail a few hours ago.” He raised the packet for all to see. “It contained this sealed envelope addressed to Miss Evangeline. An accompanying letter to me instructed she open it at the commencement of the treasure hunt when everyone had assembled.”
    Next to Max, Evie made a small sound of surprise. Rising from his chair, he stretched out his hand. “May I see that, Edmunds?”
    The butler sketched a brief bow and handed the packet to Max, then returned to his seat. The address on the envelope was a prominent law firm in Seattle.
    “Do you know what’s in it,