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Tanya said and he heard her telling someone they would have to finish their interaction later.
    The cream of New Orleans society had embraced Walden’s bizarre private c lub. Walden hand-picked each person he deemed suitable to become a member. There was no other way to gain entrance, one had to receive a handwritten invitation from Walden Warfield and the membership fee was practically a king’s ransom. They all came, not a single invitation had gone unanswered and they paid willingly to live out their most secret sexual fantasies. Bondage, sadism, masochism, voyeurism, ménage a trois, group sex, the perversities of the human libido were limitless indeed. There were mandatory rules for membership of course, no person under twenty-one was accepted, no bestiality, no unsolicited forceful acts. No weapons real or fake were allowed inside the club, no drug use was permitted and only two cocktails were served per person in the course of a gathering. Also there was the ‘no actual bodily harm’ rule which was strictly enforced by a musclebound security force.
    And there was what was described as the ‘limit reached’ word. One had only to say “ mercy ” and any activity they were engaged in would stop immediately. Walden had masterminded The Cathedral and made it happen in one of his more rational periods. The club was a huge success although, of course, no one spoke of it out of fear for their reputations and due to an ironclad nondisclosure agreement each member signed. The Cathedral was unknown outside the haven of the old shipping warehouse whose interior Walden had spent a fortune to have fashioned into the likeness of grand nineteenth century Russian manor house. It was indeed a utopian sanctuary dedicated to hedonism.
    *
    “What on earth are you doing here in the middle of the night, William? Who’s with you, are you in any danger, son?” William the third stood on the upstairs veranda of the Greek revival plantation house with a shotgun aimed at the shadowy figures who climbed his front steps balancing Walden between them.
    William told his father to put his shotgun away and have a guestroom made ready. Walden and Dr. Bishop were with him, he said, and Walden was in a bad way.
    Later on in the wee small hours before dawn William left his brother there, so heavily sedated he was sure he might sleep for two days. The single issue his father had been concerned with was the whereabouts of Liza’s daughter. Alaina was the last thing William wanted to think about but she was also the only thing he could think about. That and the fact that it was past five in the morning pissed him off and put him in a bad, bad mood. Walden needed to be in the private psychiatric hospital in Switzerland under the gentle yet determined care of Dr. Eleanor Selig. He would have to give her a call and make the arrangements, he had instructed Tanya to turn her attention to The Cathedral and along with Abigail they could manage the place in Walden’s absence. He also intended to have central air conditioning installed in his father’s house immediately no matter how loud and long his father bitched about it or the strings he had to pull to get it done. A severe weariness crept into his brain and his bones. He was tired of being his brother’s keeper and catering to his father’s every whim and now there was the girl. Liza’s daughter was occupying far too many of his thoughts.
    “Well, a cheery goo d morning to you, William,” Beth Hawkins said, peering over the tops of her glasses as she passed a cup of coffee across the breakfast bar to Allie.
    “Are you just getting in from last night? Never mind, that’s not one little bit of my business, sorry. I mean, what you do with your nights and your… other stuff…” Allie’s words trailed off and she blushed so furiously she felt light headed.
    William was in no mood for inquiries from Hawk or Alaina Darling, he wanted a shower and about twenty minutes of sleep and then he would