Carolina Heat (30 page)

Annabelle held her breath. It was quite an outburst. But would it do enough to clear the air? She peeked at Mark, who wore an air of complete befuddlement. Men never handled sticky situations like this well. The events of tonight could change the entire balance between the three friends. And she hoped she’d be around long enough to see how it all panned out.

Jillian tilted her head, then extended her hand. “You’ve got a deal. I won’t snark at you as long as you give me a little space while we’re stuck in each other’s pockets. Tonight never happened.” They shook.

Before another gaping silence could take hold, Annabelle rose. She felt ridiculous being the only one still seated. The adrenaline buzz had worn off and fatigue dug insistent claws into her brain.

“Now that peace is restored, we can call it a night. Take me home, Mark. I believe you still have to show me the rest of your house. The porch was great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m exhausted, and looking for something with four walls and a bed.”

“I think I can accommodate you. Nothing on as grand a scale as the Jefferson, but the turndown service is not to be missed.” He playfully nipped at her neck.

“An offer I can’t refuse. I’m glad the parking lot is close, because this day has drained me. See you two tomorrow.”

As they walked away, Mark called out one final thought over his shoulder. “Ashby, I’m serious. Don’t let Jilly out of your sight. After all, if anything happens to you guys, who’s going to watch my back?”

Annabelle sighed. Working with a team was like having a built-in safety net. It amazed her how quickly she’d grown accustomed to the idea. But how hard would it be to go back to flying solo?

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“Morning, Belle. Did you sneak me in some doughnuts and coffee?”

She gave her brother a long, assessing look. He was propped up on pillows, but still deathly pale. In addition to his IV tubing, wires peeked out from under his gown which connected to a steadily beeping heart monitor. He might talk a good game, but it was obvious her brother was in serious condition. “Depends. If I said yes, could you really eat them, or would it be $3.26 down the drain?”

Jonathan shook his head. “Not a giver. And downright cheap. It’s important you learn these things about her, Mark, before you get in any deeper.”

Mark gave him a brisk nod of acknowledgement. “Duly noted.”

“The return of your snarky temper must mean you’re feeling better,” said Annabelle.

“Well, I still feel like somebody turned my stomach inside out, pounded a spike into my head and ran over the rest of me with a semi. But I will admit to feeling sort of better. If I keep this up, they’ll let me have broth at lunchtime. See why I need the doughnuts?”

Impulsively she bent over and dropped a kiss on his forehead. “I promise the minute you’re feeling up to it, I’ll feed you whatever you want. Your own personal food fest. Pizza, burgers, beer, you name it.”

“That’s more like it.” He closed his eyes with a smile of satisfaction. “You can be an excellent sister when you put your mind to it.”

“Did they tell you when you’ll get out of here?” Mark asked.

“Probably Monday or Tuesday. You’d be surprised how seriously they take near-fatal poisoning here. Even the insurance company is in no hurry to kick me out.”

“Don’t you dare rush it. I don’t want you sneaking out tonight with some misplaced notion of helping us,” Annabelle said sternly.

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry. I couldn’t even make it to the bathroom by myself this morning. But I do feel bad I can’t be there to back you guys up tonight.”

“You’ve been a huge help already, and taken one for the team. Who could ask for more?”

“I did have an idea. If you bring me my laptop, I could work up Bellamy’s family tree. Since he’s still suspect number one, it might be worth it.”

Annabelle wasn’t even tempted by the offer. Jonathan’s health was paramount. “No way. The only thing you’re going to do for the rest of the day is concentrate on getting your strength back. I’ll ask the gift shop to send up a few magazines, but it’s as far as I’ll go. Besides, I think we have a good lead.”

Mark pulled the chairs nearer to the bed. Annabelle sat, but gripped Jonathan’s hand through the bed rails while she filled him in on their planned trip to the Citadel.

“We may have our answer by this afternoon. If not, we’ll at least have the book to work our way through. Then tonight, at the ball, I’ll approach Bellamy. Politicians love to talk to the press. Shouldn’t be too hard to get him off in a corner alone and work him over.”

“Once we get our hands on the book, it may widen the playing field. Bellamy’s only our best guess so far because we haven’t been able to come up with any other names. There’s nothing pointing directly to him,” Mark reminded them.

“I know. And if nothing’s immediately apparent, I’ll ask Davis Shaw for help. He was very close to the man they found in the swamp,” she explained to Jonathan. “He’s more familiar with the local history, and something may jump out at him we miss. But I don’t want to involve him unless it’s absolutely necessary. The less people we drag into this mess, the better.”

“I agree. And if we do need his help, maybe we can convince him to take a vacation for the next few days until this gets resolved.” Mark looked at his watch and stood. “We should get to the police station.”

Annabelle scowled at him. She wasn’t looking forward to playing nice with the people who refused to look for Vanessa. “On one condition. I’m going to need about a vat of coffee if I have to deal with the police. There’s got to be a Starbucks near where I can get my fix.”

“Hey, no taunting me with things I can’t have. I’d sell my soul for a latte right now,” Jonathan whined. He pushed aside her hand. “Go. But call me, and I mean every few hours so I know you’re all right.”

“We’ll be fine. And I have a good feeling about today. My investigative nose is twitching.”

“Don’t tell me reporter’s intuition really works?” Mark asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

“Don’t scoff. I can track down anything in the world as long as I’m properly fueled by coffee.”

Mark shook his head in disbelief. “It’s a mighty big claim. I’ll wait and see how true it is by the end of the day.”

“What? You doubt me?”

“Not exactly. More like I doubt the miraculous power of caffeine.”

“Watch out, Mark. Now you’re treading on hallowed ground,” Jonathan warned. “Step lightly, and for God’s sake get out of my room with all this talk of stuff I can’t have!”

Annabelle blew a kiss, too wary of his various tubes to risk hugging him. “I’ll call the nurses’ station in a few hours. That way I can leave a message if you’re napping. But don’t waste any of your energy worrying about us. We’re off to a military college. Thousands of hormone-crazed young men toting guns. What could be safer?”

The duty guard looked painfully wet behind the ears, and his grey uniform brought back visions of Civil War movies. The shiny black visor of his cap thrust most of his face into shadow. Starched, pressed and at attention, he stood ramrod straight with his hand clenched around a saber. “State your business, ma’am.”

So odd that they had to check in to a college. At her alma mater, NYU, the whole city streamed through the campus. Annabelle gave both their names. “We’re here to meet Rex Beaufort,” she stated.

“Yes ma’am, he’s expecting you.” With remarkable precision he gave them directions to the library. “Welcome to the Citadel.”

They drove past brick buildings, manicured lawns and what Mark said was a reviewing field.

“For a college campus on a Saturday, this place is very quiet. We haven’t seen anyone besides the guard,” Annabelle remarked.

“The cadets here live a regimented existence. Every hour’s accounted for, including free time like a Saturday morning.”

Annabelle wrinkled her nose. “Doesn’t sound like a whole lot of fun. You go to college for your first taste of freedom.” She parked the car in front of an enormous antebellum building.

“I agree wholeheartedly. But keep those opinions to yourself until we get back in the car,” Mark cautioned. “And remember Jilly’s cover story.”

“How could I forget? It’s the first time I’ve ever taken the backseat on my own investigation.” They had agreed that, as with all good lies, it was best to stick to some measure of truth. Mark was a historical researcher who needed the book for an upcoming project. Annabelle, however reluctant, was just along for the ride.

They went up the wide steps and entered the cool of the library. Annabelle’s sandals clattered noisily on the marble entryway. The corner of her mouth turned down in dismay.

“I guess they’ll know we’re here.”

“And I can tell you’re disappointed. No chance for unofficial snooping. But if Jilly’s done her part, we won’t need to sniff around.”

A broad-shouldered man approached them. The fact he wasn’t in uniform led Annabelle to take a few steps toward him. She wasn’t sure if the teachers all were in the military, but to her eye the man’s well-worn boat shoes, golf shirt and shorts announced him as a visitor.

“Miss Carlyle and Dr. Dering, I believe. You’re right on time.” He pumped their hands vigorously. “I’m Rex Beaufort. Come right on inside here with me.” As he spoke he led them through the main reading room. “Don’t want to linger and disrupt the library too much. They never like it when I visit. I’m too loud and don’t pussyfoot around like the library’s some sort of
sancta sanctorum
. But there’s nothing they can do about it, is there? I’m on the Board, and if they want the money to buy new books, they’ll let me walk through whenever I damn well please, won’t they?” He barked out a laugh.

Annabelle saw two of the desk staff glance their way and roll their eyes. “I can’t imagine you care to spend much time here. You strike me as a man who’d rather be outside, stirring up trouble.”

“Ha! Exactly right. Jilly hit the nail on the head. She told me I’d like you even if you are from New York.”

“Damned with faint praise,” she whispered to Mark. They turned into a hallway filled with display cases.

“I should be out on the water right now. Soon as we’re done here I’m headed to the marina. Day like this can’t be wasted inside.”

“We appreciate you taking the time out of your weekend to help,” Mark said.

The older man stopped abruptly. “Well now, I couldn’t miss the chance to meet the man my Jilly’s going to marry, now could I?”

Annabelle shot Mark a horrified look. Would Rex still give them the book if he knew Mark and Jillian were nothing more than friends? She whipped through a dozen different responses in her head, but nothing sounded right.

Rex broke into hearty laughter and gave Mark a man-to-man whack on the shoulder. “Had you going there, didn’t I? You’d think I had a shotgun over my shoulder and a minister standing next to me from the look on your face.”

Annabelle let out the breath she’d been holding. Jillian’s Uncle Rex was
nothing
like her mother. Hard to believe the social climbing stick-in-the-mud and this jovial man were actually related.

Mark grinned. “Sir, I need to set the record straight. Jillian’s one of my oldest friends. But there was never and will never be anything between us. And I promise you Jillian feels the same way.”

Rex waved his hand in dismissal. “Oh, I’ve heard the nonsense my sister spews about you being the perfect match for her precious daughter. Figured if there was any truth to it Jilly would’ve said something herself by now. Plus, you showed up today with this pretty little lady. Jilly tells me the two of you are going to the Magnolia Ball together. Ought to put some starch in Madelaine’s shorts!” he cackled.

“One of the many reasons I’m looking forward to tonight,” Annabelle said.

“Ha! You’ve got some sass in you. Better keep an eye on her, Dering. With her beautiful face and smart tongue, she’ll probably be the belle of the ball this year.”

“Mr. Beaufort, you are a charmer.”

“A man’s got to have standards, Miss Carlyle. And treating a beautiful woman the way she deserves is a number one priority in my life. My problem is that there are so many beautiful women deserving of my attention.” His voice trailed off as he unlocked the glass top of a display case. He lifted the lid and gestured inside. “There she is. Jillian tells me you’re a historian, Dering. What do you think?”

Mark reached in and carefully removed the book. “This is definitely the one.”

Annabelle peered over his shoulder. The leather was cracked in several places and most of the gold leaf decorating the cover had rubbed off. “It’s not in the best shape, but it does appear to be mostly intact. Enough for our purposes, anyway.”

“Ah yes, your big research project. My niece didn’t give me much in the way of details. What’s it all about, Dering?”

Annabelle bit her lip. She was used to taking point. She could spin a cover story faster than anyone. But this time she had to step back and let Mark run with it. Hard, but not as difficult as it would’ve been a month ago. And to be honest, as scary as it was to wait and see what Mark would say, it was also kind of fun to sit back and watch.