Finding Laura (36 page)

“Someone should have built a fire,” Amelia said, gazing toward the unlit gas logs in the fireplace. “It’s chilly tonight.”

“Allow me,” Alex said, and crossed the room to light the fire, a quick and simple procedure.

“Thank you,” Amelia murmured.

Looking at her, Laura thought there was something rather forlorn, even bewildered, about Amelia tonight. Though she was as upright as always, she seemed smaller and somehow less substantial, the iron gone from her backbone. And she looked older, that haughty face less taut, the lines around her eyes and mouth more apparent.

No one seemed willing to break the silence, and Laura wondered if everyone else was as relieved as she was when they heard the front doorbell ring. Even more, she wondered if Amelia was as conscious as Laura was of the fact that this time Alex didn’t ask for permission before responding to that summons.

Alex came back into the silent room a few moments
later, his expression somewhat guarded. “Again, it isn’t a social visit,” he said.

Brent Landry was behind him. The police lieutenant was, as before, soberly but elegantly dressed and looked quite at home in the parlor. Also as before, he went to the fireplace, where he could see everyone in the room, and murmured a greeting to the group. One of his black brows may have lifted a fraction of an inch when he saw Laura and Daniel standing as they were, but that was his only reaction.

“We were about to sit down to dinner,” Amelia told him, frosty but not nearly so incensed as she had been the last time

“I’m sorry, Miss Amelia. But there’s a matter I need to clear up in my investigation, and it won’t wait.”

“Have you found out who—?” Madeline was looking at him, her eyes intense now

As before, his voice gentled. “No, not yet We’re still eliminating suspects.”

“How many enemies could one young man have?” Amelia demanded, grim.

“Enough to keep us busy,” Landry replied very politely.

Her lips tightened. “Very well, get on with it.”

His penetrating gray eyes swept the room slowly, settling at last on Kerry. “I have a few questions for you, Mrs. Kilbourne”

She looked up at him, expressionless.

“Kerry was in California when Peter was killed,” Josie said. “What could she know about it?”

“Perhaps more than you might think,” Landry replied, his gaze still fixed on Kerry’s face. “Mrs. Kilbourne, were you aware that your husband had gambling debts?”

“Yes,” she replied matter-of-factly.

“Before you married him?”

She hesitated almost imperceptibly. “No.”

“Were you aware that, two months ago, your husband participated in a high-stakes poker game in the private back room of an Atlanta club, losing over three hundred thousand dollars in a single night?”

It was Alex who first broke the silence with a muttered, “Jesus.”

Kerry said, “He didn’t have that kind of cash.”

“No,” Landry said. “He didn’t. But he knew the manager of the club rather well, and the manager accepted his markers. Do you have any idea of whom I’m speaking, Mrs. Kilbourne?”

A very faint smile curved Kerry’s lips. “I would imagine you mean my brother.”

He nodded. “Lorenzo DeMitri. Did you know that your husband owed that kind of money to your brother?”

“Yes.”

“It didn’t surprise you?”

“Nothing Peter did surprised me.”

Amelia spoke up then, directing harsh questions to the detective. “Are you saying that this gambling debt is why Peter was murdered? That Kerry’s brother had something to do with it?”

Landry’s gaze shifted to Amelia, but only fleetingly. “I’m saying that this is … another avenue to explore, Miss Amelia. Mrs. Kilbourne, were you aware that your brother had your husband physically thrown out of his club just two days before he was murdered?”

“I was in California then.”

“But were you aware that the incident took place?”

“At the time, no.”

“When did you learn of it?”

“While I was in California.”

“How did you learn of it?”

Kerry drew a little breath. Her hazel eyes were clear and calm. “When my brother called my father.”

“To report the incident?”

“No. To explain why the club was in possession of worthless markers totaling over three hundred thousand dollars. The club, as you well know, belongs to my father.”

Landry’s eyes narrowed. “Then your brother had no intention of trying to redeem those markers?”

“He knew they were worthless. So did my father.”

“Then why were they accepted in the first place?”

Kerry smiled. “Peter was family.”

Skeptically, Landry said, “Do you expect me to believe that your brother, a hard-nosed businessman, coolly and calmly accepted hundreds of thousands of dollars of worthless markers simply because they were from his brother-in-law?”

“It’s the truth,” she said.

“And your father accepted this as well? He gave no order that your brother should attempt to redeem the markers?”

“No.”

“He wasn’t furious at your husband?”

“Angry, perhaps. But he knew Peter too well to do more than shrug it off and tell Lorenzo that Peter wasn’t to play at the club again.”

Landry stared at her for a moment, then said, “Would it surprise you to know that your brother was seen that night less than two blocks from the motel where Peter Kilbourne was killed?”

Kerry shrugged. “Not especially. Lorenzo has many interests. They keep him busy.”

Alex spoke, his lazy voice belying his very sharp eyes. “Come on, Brent. Surely you don’t believe DeMitri killed his brother-in-law over gambling markers—however staggering the total. What would he have to gain? A dead man can’t redeem markers; at least with Peter alive there was a chance to collect.”

“Maybe the chances were better with him dead,” Landry
said. “Mrs. Kilbourne, were you aware that your father had insured your husband’s life to the tune of one million dollars? And named you as beneficiary?”

Kerry looked faintly surprised, then considering. “No. But it sounds like something he would do. He knew how Peter was with money, and probably wanted to make sure I’d have some kind of independence if I were left alone.” She smiled. “And I can assure you, Lieutenant, that neither my father nor my brother would ask me to use insurance money to pay Peter’s debts—even those he owed to them.”

“I think this avenue has a dead end, Brent,” Daniel said quietly. “Unless, of course, you have some kind of evidence that Kerry’s brother—or someone in his employ—actually met with Peter the night he was killed.”

Landry glanced at him, then returned his gaze to Kerry. “One final thing, Mrs. Kilbourne. If your father wasn’t angry at your husband, then why did he place a call to Peter Kilbourne’s private number here at the house on the afternoon he was killed?”

“He didn’t,” Kerry replied. “I did.”

“Do you mind telling me why?”

In a very gentle tone, Kerry said, “Yes, I do mind.”

“That’s enough, Brent,” Alex said. “Kerry was three thousand miles away, and nothing she and Peter discussed could be pertinent to your investigation.”

For a moment it seemed that the detective would insist, but then he nodded. “I agree. Unless new evidence comes to light which would alter that.”

There was a little silence, and then Amelia said, “If you’re finished, Brent, we would like to have our dinner now.”

Not visibly discomfited by her asperity, Landry merely inclined his head politely and said, “Of course, Miss Amelia. Please do forgive me for delaying you. Never mind, Alex—I’ll see myself out.”

Nobody moved or spoke until they heard the front door close quietly behind Landry, and then it was Amelia who rose to her feet and said as though nothing out of the ordinary had occurred, “It’s apparent Anne isn’t going to join us, so we won’t wait any longer.”

Laura obeyed the slight pressure of Daniel’s fingers, and they lagged behind as the others got up and obediently followed Amelia from the room. When they were alone, she said, “That was unexpected—to me, at least. Did he strongly imply that Kerry’s family was in organized crime, or have I been watching too many gangster movies?”

Daniel began guiding her toward the bar, where they could leave their virtually untouched drinks, and said, “Too many movies. However, rumor has it that both her brother and father are ruthless when it comes to business, and not too picky about which side of the law they stand on. That private back room at their club is evidence of that.”

“Then why forgive Peter’s debts? Just because he was family?”

“Maybe. Or maybe there’s more to the story than Kerry’s willing to tell.”

Laura thought there was probably a lot more, but she and Daniel had to join the others then and there was no time to discuss possibilities. Especially as the rest of the family followed Amelia’s lead and at least outwardly acted as though nothing unusual had happened. In fact, Amelia behaved as though the entire day had been normal, allowing no mention of Anne’s outburst or Landry’s visit to pass her lips, and simply ignoring the minor rebellion when Daniel seated Laura in the chair beside his own rather than in her accustomed place at Amelia’s right hand.

Instead she directed the conversation as if nothing had changed, inquiring after everyone’s day and suggesting that a game or two of bridge would fill the evening nicely.
Alex and Josie were both good players, Kerry passable, and as for Laura—

“Count us out,” Daniel said, pleasantly but firmly. “We have plans for the evening.”

Laura thought that was a little high-handed, to say nothing of disconcerting, but since his hand touched her thigh beneath the table just then, stroking lightly in a caress she felt easily through the thin material of her dress, she couldn’t seem to find the words or the will to protest. She glanced down the table to see Amelia’s lips tighten slightly, but the old lady merely nodded in regal acquiescence and went on arranging everyone else’s evening.

With the meal over, the family made their way back toward the den, with the exception of Daniel and Laura, who stopped at the foot of the stairs.

“Plans?” she said.

“Plans.” He put his hands on her waist and pulled her against him, smiling. “Spending the next few hours in my bed while I try to persuade you to spend the rest of the night there.”

“Daniel …”

“Laura, what does it matter if we sleep together all night in that room? Who does it concern except us?”

She told herself that she gave in simply because she was still weary from the night before and lacked the energy to fight him. But the truth was that she knew she wouldn’t be able to leave him that way again, slipping from his arms and his bed in the darkness before dawn as if what they had done there were wrong.

And it turned out she wasn’t nearly as weary as she had thought.…

I
T WAS
A little after midnight when Laura woke to the peaceful quiet of Daniel’s firelit bedroom. He was still sleeping deeply, on his stomach beside her with an arm
flung across her middle and his face nuzzled in her hair. Laura couldn’t figure out why she was awake. Considering the past few hours, she was surprised she wasn’t blissfully unconscious.

She stretched a bit, cautious, and felt her muscles quiver a protest at being asked to do anything but just
be
. They certainly wanted her to snuggle closer to Daniel and go back to sleep. Her mind, however, was wide awake and busy sifting through the events of the day.

Sighing at her own perversity, Laura slid out from under Daniel’s arm, careful not to wake him, and slipped from the bed. She found his shirt and put it on, then wandered across the room to the window that looked out on the gardens and the maze.

It was calm out there, the scattered lights showing hardwood trees beginning to go bare-limbed after the recent storms had snatched at their fading leaves, and still shrubbery, and empty benches. The maze was alight, but softly tonight without a storm’s harsh attention. It was probably chilly but not cold, a moonless night that was motionless and calm.

So why did Laura feel so uneasy? Because there were things Daniel refused to talk to her about? Because Anne had too suddenly laid bare too many of the family secrets? Because it was becoming more and more apparent that Peter had been worse than the family black sheep, and because his young widow was a smiling enigma? Because Amelia had been different tonight, changed in some way Laura sensed and saw yet could not define?

Because she was helplessly in love with Daniel Kilbourne and knew with stark certainty that she would never survive it if he didn’t love her too …?

In the stillness below, a hint of movement caught Laura’s eye, and she turned her head a little to watch a cloaked figure leave the conservatory and slip out into the gardens. Even farther away now than she had been when
she had seen the same thing from her own window, Laura frowned and tried to decide who was going out for a postmidnight walk. In the enveloping cloak, it could have been anyone.

“Laura? Sweetheart, come back to bed.”

She started to tell him about it, but decided that enough secrets had been exposed for one day; let whoever it was enjoy their nighttime ramble in peace. Turning away from the window, Laura returned to Daniel’s bed.

K
ERRY REACHED THE
center of the maze quickly tonight. It was a brisk walk of considerable distance, but she wasn’t the least bit out of breath when she reached the gazebo. She went inside and for a moment stood looking around at the inviting interior that she had created so painstakingly here. It was her haven. The simple furniture with its soft cushions, the filmy curtains ready to veil the world outside, fresh flowers in delicate vases. Simplicity.

Everything here was simple. Uncomplicated. Just as it appeared to be. Her escape into clarity.

She absently plumped up a pillow or two, then sat down abruptly on the foot of the chaise, her cloak swirling around her, and stared at nothing.

It was barely ten minutes later when a footstep drew her attention, and she looked up as Brent Landry came through the doorway of the gazebo. He stood there, the gray eyes fixed on her face holding an expression of entreaty, his own handsome face a little pale. There was a long silence, and when he finally spoke, his voice was husky.