The Fatal Fortune Read online

  Contents

  Also by Jayne Castle

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Author's Note

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Special Excerpt

  About the Author

  Titles by Jayne Ann Krentz writing as Jayne Castle

  The Lost Night

  Canyons of Night

  Midnight Crystal

  Obsidian Prey

  Dark Light

  Silver Master

  Ghost Hunter

  After Glow

  Harmony

  After Dark

  Amaryllis

  Zinnia

  Orchid

  The Guinevere Jones Novels

  The Desperate Game

  The Chilling Deception

  The Sinister Touch

  The Fatal Fortune

  Titles by Jayne Ann Krentz writing as Amanda Quick

  Crystal Gardens

  Quicksilver

  Burning Lamp

  The Perfect Poison

  The Third Circle

  The River Knows

  Second Sight

  Lie By Moonlight

  The Paid Companion

  Wait Until Midnight

  Late for the Wedding

  Don’t Look Back

  Slightly Shady

  Wicked Widow

  I Thee Wed

  With This Ring

  Affair

  Mischief

  Mystique

  Mistress

  Deception

  Desire

  Dangerous

  Reckless

  Ravished

  Rendezvous

  Scandal

  Surrender

  Seduction

  Other titles by Jayne Ann Krentz

  Copper Beach

  In Too Deep

  Fired Up

  Running Hot

  Sizzle and Burn

  White Lies

  All Night Long

  Falling Awake

  Truth or Dare

  Light in Shadow

  Summer in Eclipse Bay

  Together in Eclipse Bay

  Smoke in Mirrors

  Lost & Found

  Dawn in Eclipse Bay

  Soft Focus

  Eclipse Bay

  Eye of the Beholder

  Flash

  Sharp Edges

  Deep Waters

  Absolutely, Positively

  Trust Me

  Grand Passion

  Hidden Talents

  Wildest Hearts

  Family Man

  Perfect Partners

  Sweet Fortune

  Silver Linings

  The Golden Chance

  eSpecials

  The Scargill Cove Case Files

  Anthologies

  Charmed

  (with Julie Beard, Lori Foster, and Eileen Wilks)

  Titles written by Jayne Ann Krentz and Jayne Castle

  No Going Back

  A GUINEVERE JONES NOVEL

  The Fatal Fortune

  Jayne Castle

  InterMix Books, New York

  THE BERKLEY PUBLISHING GROUP

  Published by the Penguin Group

  Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

  Penguin Group (Canada), 90 Eglinton Avenue East, Suite 700, Toronto, Ontario M4P 2Y3, Canada (a division of Pearson Penguin Canada Inc.)

  Penguin Books Ltd., 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  Penguin Group Ireland, 25 St. Stephen’s Green, Dublin 2, Ireland (a division of Penguin Books Ltd.)

  Penguin Group (Australia), 250 Camberwell Road, Camberwell, Victoria 3124, Australia (a division of Pearson Australia Group Pty. Ltd.)

  Penguin Books India Pvt. Ltd., 11 Community Centre, Panchsheel Park, New Delhi—110 017, India

  Penguin Group (NZ), 67 Apollo Drive, Rosedale, Auckland 0632, New Zealand (a division of Pearson New Zealand Ltd.)

  Penguin Books (South Africa) (Pty.) Ltd., 24 Sturdee Avenue, Rosebank, Johannesburg 2196, South Africa

  Penguin Books Ltd., Registered Offices: 80 Strand, London WC2R 0RL, England

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have control over and does not have any responsibility for author or third-party websites or their content.

  THE FATAL FORTUNE

  An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

  PUBLISHING HISTORY

  Dell Books edition / December 1986

  InterMix eBook edition / August 2012

  Copyright © 1986 by Jayne Krentz, Inc.

  Excerpt from The Lost Night copyright © 2012 by Jayne Ann Krentz.

  Shooting target © Nomad_Soul / Shutterstock

  Pike Place Market neon sign © Natalia Bratslavsky / Shutterstock

  Photo of couple © Shirley Green

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

  For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  ISBN: 978-1-101-56978-8

  INTERMIX

  InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group,

  a division of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.,

  375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

  INTERMIX and the “IM” design are trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) Inc.

  Dear Reader:

  This is the last book in my four-book Guinevere Jones series, novels of romantic-suspense that I wrote long before I fired up the Arcane Society novels. I had intended this to be a long-running series but that was not to be. The books went out of print and I moved on. I am delighted that my publisher has made the series available again.

  And for those of you who have contacted me over the years asking what happened to Guinevere and her lover, Seattle PI Zachariah Justis, I think the ending of this fourth book makes it clear that they got their Happy Ever After. Really, it’s the only kind of ending I know how to write.

  I hope you enjoy Guinevere and Zac.

  Chapter One

  Guinevere Jones handed the sniffling young woman another tissue and waited for the newest spate of tears to halt. As she waited, she pushed the cup of tea closer to her companion’s elbow, silently urging her to take another sip.

  Tea and sympathy. It wasn’t much to offer, under the circumstances, but until Sally Evenson had composed herself, there wasn’t much else Guinevere could do. The two women were seated at the corner table in a small restaurant
just off First Avenue in downtown Seattle. It was the middle of August and the temperature outside was in the mid seventies. The weather was perfect for dining at one of the outside tables, but that would be much too public for poor Sally in her present mood.

  Sally Evenson had worked for Camelot Services as a temporary secretary for several months. Guinevere had sent her out on a number of jobs, and the frail-looking Sally had gained confidence and skill with each new assignment. She had been turning into one of Guinevere’s most reliable temps, until disaster struck on the latest assignment. Guinevere still wasn’t certain just what shape disaster had taken, because all Sally had been able to do for the past half hour was cry. Perhaps it was time to take a firm hand.

  “All right, Sally, finish your tea and tell me exactly what’s going on at Gage and Watson.”

  Sally raised her head, her eyes swollen and red. She was a young woman, twenty-three to be exact, painfully thin, and rather nervous in even the most serene situations. Some of that nervousness had been fading lately as Sally’s job performance had improved. There had been a direct correlation between confidence and composure. Guinevere had been pleased at the transformation, but now it seemed all the progress had been undone.

  “I can’t talk about it, Miss Jones. You wouldn’t understand. No one would understand. I’m sorry to bother you like this. I don’t know what got into me. It’s just that lately everything seems so . . . so impossible.” Sally ducked her head again and blew her nose. Whatever claim to attractiveness the young woman had was submerged beneath the mournful wariness in her pale blue-green eyes and tautly drawn features. Her hair was an indeterminate shade of brown, worn in a short bob that badly needed a professional stylist’s touch. She still wore her Camelot Services blazer, a smartly cut jacket of royal blue with the new Camelot Services crest on the left pocket.

  Sally had fallen in love with the blazer the day Guinevere had given it to her. It was probably the most expensive garment she had ever had. Two months ago, Guinevere had hit on the idea of giving all her skilled, long-term employees jackets as a symbol of their elite status in the temporary-service field. The blazers were slowly but surely becoming an emblem of the best in temporary help in the Seattle business community. Camelot Services employees wore them with pride. It was good advertising, Guinevere told herself each time she wrote out a corporate check for another of the expensive blazers.

  Guinevere took a sip of coffee and set the cup down gently but firmly. “Sally, I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on. Now, it’s been obvious for the past couple of weeks that you’ve developed personal problems. I do not believe in getting involved in my employees’ problems—unless they affect job performance. Unfortunately, your problem has gotten to that stage. If you don’t pull yourself together, I’m going to have to take you off the Gage and Watson job. You know it and I know it.”

  Sally stared at her with horror. “Oh, please, Miss Jones, don’t do that. I love the job, and my manager at Gage and Watson says it could go on for a couple more months. I need the money. I’ve moved into a new apartment, and I was going to go shopping for some clothes and I wanted to buy a new stereo—”

  “All right, all right,” Guinevere said gently, holding up a hand to stem the flow of protest. “I realize you need the job. And I need you on it. You’ve been doing excellent work. Gage and Watson assures me they’re very pleased. I wouldn’t be surprised if when this assignment is over they offer you full-time employment.”

  Sally’s face lit up. “Do you really think so? Oh, Miss Jones, that would be fabulous. A real, full-time job. A career.” For a moment she was lost in blissful contemplation of a future in which she had a career.

  Guinevere smiled wryly. “Gage and Watson’s gain will be my loss.”

  Sally’s excitement dissolved on the spot. Guiltily she dabbed at her eyes. “Of course. I forgot. If I were to get a full-time job at Gage and Watson I’d no longer be able to work for you on a temporary basis, would I? I’m sorry, Miss Jones, I didn’t stop to think. I owe everything to you. I wouldn’t dream of leaving you, after all you’ve done for me.”

  Guinevere grinned. “You most certainly will leave me, when the right full-time position comes along. It’s called ‘career advancement,’ Sally, and, although I’ll hate to lose you, I have absolutely no intention of holding you back. Don’t worry. Happens all the time in the temporary-help field. I’m used to it.” Which didn’t mean she liked it, but she was businesswoman enough to accept the inevitable. Besides, sending out temps who were good enough to hire on permanently at the offices where they had been assigned was just another example of sound advertising. As she was always telling Zac, you had to look on the positive side.

  Sally smiled tremulously. “You’re so understanding, Miss Jones.”

  “I’m trying to be, Sally. I’m trying. Now, tell me what’s gone wrong at Gage and Watson.”

  The young woman hesitated and then confided in a rush, “It’s got nothing to do with Gage and Watson. Gage and Watson is a wonderful company, Miss Jones.”

  “Is it the people you’re working with? Is some man hassling you on the job? There are laws against that, you know,” Guinevere said bluntly.

  “Oh, no, nothing like that.” Sally gave her a pathetic glance. “I’m not exactly the sort of woman men would hassle on the job, you know.”

  “No, I do not know. You’re an attractive, single woman. Unfortunately, job harrassment occurs even at the best firms. But if it’s not the people at Gage and Watson who are causing you trouble, what is it? If it’s something too personal to talk about to me, then maybe you should consider some counseling, Sally, because whatever it is, it’s starting to ruin everything you’ve been working so hard on for the past few months.”

  Sally bit her lip. “I . . . I am getting counseling, Miss Jones.”

  Guinevere’s eyebrows went up. “You are?”

  “Well, of a sort. I mean, Madame Zoltana is a kind of counselor. She’s very intelligent, and she . . . she sees things, you know? But she’s kind of expensive, and lately I’ve been having to see her a lot.” Sally reached for a few more tissues to blot the new flow of tears.

  “Madame Zoltana?” Guinevere stared at Sally. “That doesn’t sound like a counselor’s name or title. Who on earth is Madame Zoltana?”

  “She’s a psychic,” Sally explained uneasily, not looking at Guinevere. “Several people at Gage and Watson go to her. Francine Bates introduced me to her a few weeks ago. She has a great gift—Madame Zoltana, that is, not Francine. It’s absolutely incredible what she can see. She can tell you so many things about your past that sometimes it’s frightening.”

  Sally looked frightened, all right, Guinevere decided abruptly. Frightened and alone in the world. A very scared young woman. “Tell me, Sally, exactly what Madame Zoltana does when you go to see her.”

  Sally’s lower lip trembled. She stared down into her teacup. “She sees things. She warns you about things that might happen if you aren’t careful. Then she . . . she helps you.”

  “Helps you?”

  The young woman nodded bleakly. “She can sometimes change things for you. Things that . . . that might go wrong.”

  Guinevere swore silently to herself. “And she’ll help you avoid these things that might go wrong, as long as you continue seeing her on a regular basis, I suppose?”

  Sally nodded, looking up with a kind of sad fear in her tear-filled eyes. “I do try to see her regularly, Miss Jones. But as I said, she’s very expensive, and last week when I explained to her that I might not be able to pay her fees, she said that unless I did, the most awful thing would happen.”

  “What did she say would happen, Sally?”

  Sally Evenson collapsed into fresh tears. When she finally stopped crying, she told Guinevere exactly what threat hung over her frail, young head.

  *** />
  Guinevere was still fuming when she got back to the office an hour later. Trina Hood, the temp Guinevere used to help out in Camelot Services’ own offices, looked up with a cheerful smile.

  “Mr. Justis called. He said to remind you that you promised to help him deal with the caterer tonight after work. I think he’s getting nervous, Miss Jones.”

  “Zac hasn’t ever given an office reception,” Guinevere explained mildly as she sat down at her desk and sifted through a small stack of messages. “He’s going through the usual party-giver’s panic, wondering if he’ll wind up spending a fortune on food and champagne and have no one show up. Did he say what time he wanted to meet me?”

  Trina nodded. “He said he’ll come by to collect you around five.”

  “Collect me?”

  “I think that was the word he used. He instructed me not to let you get away.”

  Guinevere smiled fondly. “Poor Zac. Amazing how a man with all his talents is reduced to fear and trembling by the mere thought of giving a party. Anything else crucial happen while I was gone?”

  “Two more calls for clerks needed for vacation fillins. I’ve already contacted two people in our files. Both said they’d report to work at the firms tomorrow morning.”

  “Great.” Guinevere smiled approvingly at Trina. She had used a handful of different people from her own staff during the past few weeks, in an attempt to find someone who would work out on a full-time basis. After her sister Carla had left to set up her own art gallery in Pioneer Square, Guinevere had discovered just how much she had come to rely on full-time office help at Camelot Services.

  Trina Hood was showing definite potential. She was a pleasant woman in her mid-forties who had recently been divorced and now had two children to raise alone. There was a certain comfortable plumpness about her, and she had an excellent telephone voice. She was also a hard worker and anxious to please. As she had explained to Guinevere, she had been out of the work force for almost ten years, and she had been terrified of the prospect of having to find a job. She had decided to start out as a Camelot temp, to get her feet wet in the business world. She had walked through the doors of Camelot Services on the very day Guinevere had acknowledged to herself that she wasn’t going to be able to get by with part-time help. Guinevere had grabbed her.