Deadly Secrets (8 page)

What the hell! It was a tough business and a man had to look out for himself if he wanted to stay independent. Jack gave himself a mental shake and climbed into his truck.

“I’ll give her a break and then wash my hands of it,” he muttered as he turned the key and started the truck.

By the time he’d pulled out onto Camp Bowie, his mind was fixed on his client in Arlington and Krystal’s problems were left behind.

Chapter Five

“I’m going to be just fine.” Krystal leaned across the seat and gave Penny a hug.

Unlocking the car door and pulling the handle, she turned back to Penny and gave her a last warning admonition. “Now I don’t want you to worry anymore. I’m going to talk to Uncle Andrew and he’ll take care of everything.”

“You will telephone?” Penny’s voice trembled.

“I’ll call as soon as I talk to Uncle Andrew. That’s a promise.”

Krystal hopped out of the car, crossed the narrow strip of pavement into the terminal and stepped through the automatic doors.

At the Southwest Airlines booth, she stepped up to the counter and smiled at the ticket agent.

“May I help you?” His voice was crisp and professional but his eyes brightened at the sight of the stunning blonde holding out her American Express card and his smile held real warmth.

“I have a reservation for the noon flight to Houston.” Krystal returned his smile with an automatic twist of her lips.

The formalities over, she soon boarded the plane and sighed with relief to find it almost empty. She couldn’t have handled a talkative seat companion. What she needed right now was some quiet time to get her thoughts in order.

The plane rolled onto the runway and after giving the standard spiel, a pert navy-clad redhead walked down the aisle checking seatbelts. The jets roared and in seconds they were airborne. Krystal leaned back in the seat and turned her face to the window. Memory rolled in with the passing clouds and took her back.

She was almost seven. Next Saturday was her birthday. Mommy had promised her a big party with clowns. She’d gone to sleep dreaming about the clowns. Then she’d head a loud bang. “Mommy!” She’d cried out but Mommy hadn’t come. Frightened, Krystal had buried her head under the covers and started to cry.

“Would you care for a soft drink?” A friendly voice brought Krystal back from the past. “Thank you, no.” She shook her head and the flight attendant crossed to the next seat across the aisle.

Turning back to the window, Krystal forced her thoughts away from the past. She needed to decide how to handle Uncle Andrew. The last time she’d been home, they’d had a fight over her mother.

“I’m going to be twenty-five in a couple of months,” Krystal had told him. “Don’t you think it’s time somebody told me the truth about my mother?”

“She wasn’t a fit woman to raise a child,” Andrew had snapped at Krystal and given her an angry look.

Refusing to be intimidated, she’d pressed on. “Can’t you at least tell me why my mother left?”

“No, as a matter of fact, I can’t. I have no idea what was in her mind. She had no interest in you when you were a child and there’s no reason to think that’s changed. You’ll only rake open old sores if you try to find her.” That had been his final word. He’d given Krystal a withering glance and turned back to his work.

Krystal had known it was hopeless but she’d tried one more question. “Do you know where she went when she left Houston?”

Andrew’s voice had been frigid. “I have no idea where she went and furthermore, I don’t care. Nor do I want to carry this discussion any further.”

Krystal had slammed out of the study and spent the rest of the night in her bedroom. She’d had her own agenda though and Saturday morning, as soon as they’d both left—Stella for the beauty parlor and Uncle Andrew for golf—she’d gone to the attic. There, she’d spent hours digging through old trunks and unpacking stacks of photo albums. She’d made up her mind to hire a detective and she figured there had to be a picture of her mother somewhere. There wasn’t.

Finally, tired and sweaty, she’d pushed the last trunk back into place and started to leave. On the way out, she’d spotted a small leather suitcase tucked away in an alcove.

It had taken her several minutes of poking and prying but she’d jimmied the lock and opened the case. More linen. Disgusted, she’d lifted a handful. A faded pink jewelry folder lay on a stack of doilies. She’d picked it up and it had crinkled in her hands. Untying the satin ribbon, she’d pulled out a long white envelope. The writing, scrawled in her grandmother’s spidery hand, had been impossible to read without her glasses. She’d tucked the envelope into her pocket, closed the suitcase and stacked it back in the alcove.

“The captain has turned on the seatbelt sign.” The flight attendant’s voice brought Krystal back to the present and the descent into Houston.

After she deplaned and rushed through the terminal, she strode toward the long line of taxis waiting in front of the airport. She jumped into the first in line and gave the driver her uncle’s address in River Oaks. Then she settled back in the seat and tried to concentrate on her upcoming talk with Uncle Andrew. It was hopeless. Her mind kept darting between the past and the present. When the cab swung into the drive, she still hadn’t figured out what to say.

The cab dropped her off at the front entrance and before approaching the door, Krystal peeked through the garage window. The Jaguar was gone—Stella was off somewhere—but the BMW was there. That was a relief. Uncle Andrew would probably be up in his study. Letting herself in, she climbed the stairs to the second floor, walked noiselessly down the hall to the big corner room and knocked on the door.

“What is it?” Andrew’s voice grumbled from within.

Krystal turned the knob and stepped inside the room. Uncle Andrew, a small, neat man with dark, gray-streaked hair, lifted his head and fixed sharp, brown eyes on Krystal’s face.

“I didn’t know you were coming home this weekend,” he said.

“I wasn’t. Something’s happened and I need to talk to you.”

“You’d better sit down.” He motioned to a chair in front of his desk. “What’s happened?”

Krystal sat and met his unblinking gaze. He never relaxed. His dress, like his manner, remained rigid and proper. Taking a deep breath, she let the words rush out. “I hired a detective agency to find my mother.”

Andrew’s face tightened. “I thought we went all through this business of Anna the last time you were here.”

Krystal’s eyes flashed. “What you mean is that I begged you to tell me about my mother and father and you refused. What did you expect me to do?”

He shook his head. His eyelids drooped, hiding his expression. When he spoke, his voice was low. “Did you get your answers?”

She hesitated then shook her head.

“I’m sorry.” A sigh escaped his lips. “I was only trying to spare you.”

Krystal gripped her lip with her teeth. She wanted to scream at him, berate him for his coldness. He sat firm in his chair, his expression hard and unyielding. Her courage wavered, she dropped her eyes and covered her face with her hands.

“You know your Aunt Stella and I have your best interests at heart?”

Krystal shook her head. “Maybe you care but don’t try and tell me Stella gives a damn, because I won’t believe it.”

“Okay.” He ignored the dig at Stella. “Let’s not quarrel. Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Andrew leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers under his chin.

“I went to see my mother and if you must know, I made a complete fool of myself.”

Andrew frowned. “Go on.”

“I fell into her and knocked her out of her chair. It was nothing, really but it looked bad. A security guard came and pulled me off her.”

“Then you haven’t talked to Anna yet?”

Krystal shook her head. “No and now I’ll never get another chance because somebody went to the flea market last night and killed her.”

“What?” Andrew jerked forward.

“She’s dead. The detective told me about it this morning. They found her body out at the flea market and they’re looking for me.”

“Why would they be looking for you?” He kept his eyes on her face.

“Because somebody told them I attacked her.” Krystal’s voice trembled and she fought back tears. “I wasn’t there last night, if that’s what you’re wondering. I didn’t want her dead. I wanted her alive so I could talk to her. Now the police are looking for me and it’s all your fault. If you’d answered my questions, I wouldn’t have had to hire a detective. I know you don’t want any more scandal in the family but what am I supposed to do now?”

“Please, Krystal.” His voice was almost gentle. “I admit, I was wrong. I didn’t realize you were so desperate that you’d go to a detective. If it’s so important to you we can talk about it later. Right now we need to decide what to do. You say you haven’t talked to the police yet?”

“No. As soon as I heard about it, I had Penny drive me to the airport.”

“Good. I’ll get Tom Masters and have him call Fort Worth. This business is best handled by a lawyer. Tom can explain your connection with Anna and try to put some pressure on the police to keep your name out of the papers. Now where were you last night?”

“I was home in bed. I felt like a fool for losing control of myself at the flea market. I didn’t feel like talking to anyone, not even Penny. I took a couple of sleeping pills and they knocked me out.”

“Will Penny vouch for that?”

“Of course she will. Her bedroom’s right next to mine. She knows I didn’t go anywhere.”

“Okay, that’s good. Now why don’t you go down to the kitchen and make us some sandwiches while I call Tom and get that over with.”

When the door closed behind Krystal Andrew reached for the telephone. “This is a hell of a mess,” he muttered, dialing his lawyer’s private number. “Hi Tom. Andrew Davis here,” he said when Tom answered the phone. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What’s so urgent it can’t wait until Monday?” Tom sounded like he’d been awakened from a nap.

“Anna’s dead. She’s been murdered.”

“The hell you say! When did this happen?”

“Last night. Krystal says she was strangled.”

“Krystal? She’s not mixed up in this, is she?”

“She says not but the cops are looking for her.”

“What for? Where is she?”

“Here with me. She says she didn’t do anything.”

“There must be some reason they’re looking for her.”

“She went out to Anna’s flea market on Saturday afternoon and made a scene.”

“What kind of a scene?”

“I don’t know. She came in here with some wild story about falling and knocking Anna off her chair.”

“Are you saying she was there when Anna was murdered?”

“No. That happened sometime in the middle of the night. Krystal left after the fracas with Anna. She claims she was home all night and her roommate will back her up.”

“Good. That makes it easier. I’ll call Fort Worth and find out who’s on the case. Krystal will have to give them a statement but they won’t be too hard on her. Now what about you? Are you clean?”

Andrew hesitated. When he spoke, his voice was strained. “That’s the hitch. I took a run down there Saturday night. I wasn’t all that sure Anna would keep her mouth shut and I wanted to have a talk with her.”