How Secrets Die (22 page)

A wry smile crossed her face. She had fallen between the golden age of newspapers and the rise of all the other ways in which people currently found their news. But no matter where she got a job, it was hardly likely to be in this small town.

She was still mulling over the possibilities when someone tapped at the door. It opened a crack, and she belatedly remembered her promise to Mac to keep the dead bolt on.

“Hi, Kate. Okay if I come in?” Not waiting for a response, Allison entered, carrying a large basket, with which she gestured. “Enough food for a small army, courtesy of my future mother-in-law. And from Sarah, as well. And both of them said that anything you need, just call.”

“It's kind of them. And a little overwhelming.” She started to get up, but Allison waved her back.

“Relax. No need to get up, and I can only stay a few minutes. This would be the day we advertised all our Christmas fabrics, and we're swamped.” She smiled. “Well, as swamped as anyone can be in a town of eight thousand people.”

Allison rattled around in the kitchen for a few minutes and then reappeared. “There's a chicken pot pie you can heat up for your supper. And a quart of chicken soup and one of beef vegetable, canned by Ellen. And various assorted desserts. Apparently they think being injured makes you hungry.”

Kate shook her head, gesturing to the chair opposite her. “As I said, overwhelming.”

Allison settled herself in the chair, looking as sleek and pulled together as if she were posing for a layout in
Country Living
. “I know what you mean. That was my reaction when I first came to Laurel Ridge. But people here look out for each other. I'd never lived in a small town before.” She smiled. “And now I'm settling down here for life.”

“No downsides?” she asked.

Allison grinned. “Well, you do have to get used to everyone wanting to know your business. And the gossip flies faster than you'd believe. By the time something appears in the paper, everyone knows it already.”

“I hate to think what they're saying about me.” Kate could imagine the talk.

“Not as bad as you might suppose. Being approved by the Whitings means something in Laurel Ridge.”

Kate didn't know what to say to that, but Allison didn't seem to expect an answer.

“Mac comes across as a tough guy,” Allison went on, and Kate didn't think the comment was as random as it sounded.

“He's a cop. I suppose he has to.” Kate's thoughts flickered to her late stepfather, only to discover that some of her anger with him seemed to have dissipated. Before she could assess that, Allison was continuing.

“But Mac has a tender heart under that tough exterior. I'd hate to see him get hurt.”

So Allison thought she needed a warning, did she? Well, she might be a bit too late.

“I'd hate that, too. But sometimes it can't be avoided.” She met Allison's gaze and hoped the woman understood.

Getting hurt was the flip side of caring, and she expected both she and Mac might fall victim to it.

Allison studied her face a moment longer, and then she gave a nod, apparently satisfied. “Well, I'd better get back to the shop. Remember, if you need anything...”

“I'll call,” Kate said, but she suspected she wouldn't. She was used to taking care of herself. Laurel Ridge had nibbled away at that independence, but she'd better grasp it back before anyone else got hurt.

* * *

M
AC
HUNG
UP
the phone after calling the lab and extracting a promise that they'd get to his samples soonest. He had too much experience to expect that to happen in the near future.

He had to force himself to sit still and think things through. Urgency pushed at him—the need to do something, anything, that would resolve this problem and keep Kate safe. There was no point in rushing off half-cocked. Unfortunately, he couldn't approach keeping Kate safe with the same protective attitude he had toward everyone else in this town. His feelings about her were way too complicated and primal for that.

Marge buzzed through from the outer office. “Sheila called from Russell Sheldon's house while you were on the phone. She says he wants to see you right away. Can I tell her you'll be right over?”

Mac hesitated. He wanted to talk to everyone involved in Blackburn House himself, not leave it in Johnny's inexperienced hands. But there was always the possibility that Russ remembered something about Jason—something important to resolving the riddle of his death.

He blew out a frustrated breath, hoping this wouldn't be a wild-goose chase. “Okay. Tell her I'm on my way.”

When he reached the house, Sheila was waiting to open the door for him. “Hey, Sheila. Is something wrong?”

“I guess not.” She sounded unsure, and her good-natured face was troubled. “He seems pretty much with it today, but he's got a bee in his bonnet about seeing you. It was all I could do to keep him from walking down to the station.” She sent a furtive glance toward the living room. “You know he'd get lost if he tried to do that, but he's determined.”

“It's okay. I'll talk to him.” He patted her arm reassuringly. “It'll be okay.”

But when he reached the archway to the living room, he wasn't so sure. Using a cane to help, Russ Sheldon was thumping his way across the room. Ruffy, apparently knowing his master was upset, whined plaintively, tail and ears down.

“There you are at last.” Russ shot the words at him in a tone Mac didn't remember ever hearing from him before. Russ had always been the perfect gentleman, even when things were not going according to plan.

“Sorry I didn't get here more quickly.” Mac took his arm and guided him toward his usual chair. “Let's sit down, and you can tell me all about whatever is troubling you.”

Russ shook off his arm. “I can sit myself.” Then, seeming to hear his temper, Russ shook his head, looking sheepish. “Sorry. Not your fault. I'm just so angry with myself that I didn't tell you before.”

“So you'll tell me now.” Mac kept his voice calm and easy, despite the questions that raged through him. “I'm right here.”

For a moment Russ stared down at the Oriental carpet. Then he shook his head. “Not your fault,” he said again. “It's a terrible thing to feel your mind failing.” Russ raised his head to look at Mac. “That's why I wanted to talk right away, while it's still clear in my mind.”

Mac felt a twinge of pity and knew it would be unwelcome. Russ Sheldon was a proud man. He didn't invite sympathy, let alone pity. For a moment he had an insight into what it must be like to know that your thoughts and memories, the very essence of yourself, was slipping away.

Russ reached out a hand to the dog, and Ruffy pressed his head against the hand with a soft whine.

“You came here before, asking about Jason. You and that girl—his sister.”

“That's right. She wants to know why he killed himself.”

The old man's lips quivered slightly, and he pressed them together. “You know that there were problems with the accounts, don't you?”

Mac nodded. “You said something about it, and I got the story out of Bart. How someone had messed up the account records, and they thought it was Jason.” He studied the man's face. “You told us something was your fault. Was that what you meant?” He should have taken Russ's words more seriously at the time, but he'd known someone as conscientious as Russ always would think any problem was his fault.

Tears welled in Sheldon's eyes. “My fault. It wasn't just a mix-up. Money was missing.”

Mac zeroed in on him, startled. “No one has even come close to suggesting that.”

“It's true,” Sheldon insisted. “I know it's true. And I know that boy—Jason—he wasn't to blame.”

Bart hadn't even hinted at malfeasance. The thought shot through him, upsetting all his assumptions. “Bart told me that it was just a matter of messing up some of the accounts.”

“Money was missing.” Russell insisted. “I know. Bart wanted to cover it up. He said we'd get in trouble with the authorities if it became known. It would ruin the business.”

That made sense. He could hear Bart saying just that. He wouldn't want a scandal, not even...

“What happened? Did Bart make up the difference with his own money?”

“We did it between the two of us. I couldn't let Bart bear the cost himself.” He shook his head. “That's not the important thing. The important thing is that Bart blamed Jason. He was so sure. Nothing had happened until Jason came to work with us, he said, so it had to be Jason.”

Mac tried to wrap his head around it. “Surely an intern didn't have that kind of access to funds, did he?”

“That's what I said. I kept saying it and saying it, but Bart didn't listen. He was so sure.”

“Did he accuse Jason to his face?” The versions he'd heard about that last day certainly hadn't included this. If it was true, Bart had lied to him. Or at least, omitted a good part of the truth.

“He called Jason in. Said he knew what Jason had done. That he had to go that minute. The boy tried to defend himself, but Bart wouldn't listen to a word.” Tears welled in Russ's eyes. “It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. But once Bart gets an idea in his head, nothing can budge him. He won't listen to anyone.”

“So when Jason Reilley left the office that day, he had been accused of theft. Did Bart intend to prosecute?”

“No, no, he wouldn't do that. The publicity would kill the firm. He told Jason he wouldn't go to the authorities, but he said he'd make sure Jason never got another job in the field.” Russ lifted a trembling hand to his face to wipe at the tears, and Ruffy whined, pressing against his knee.

“Did you speak up for Jason?” It was probably a cruel question to put, but Mac had to know all of it. The truth, for once.

“I tried. God help me, I did try. But not—not hard enough. It wasn't Jason. I know it wasn't.” He was shaking now, his face white.

“Easy.” Mac put a hand on Russ's arm. “Take it easy. No one is blaming you.”

“I am.” Sobs racked his body, so that his words were barely comprehensible. “I'm to blame. Jason didn't do it. It must have been me.”

Sheila, hearing the upset, hurried into the room, putting her arms around the old man's shoulders. “Here, now. You don't want to go getting all upset.”

He turned to her like a child seeking sympathy. “I did it. I'm guilty.”

Sheila's gaze met Mac's, and she shook her head. “Now, Russell, you know that's not so. You wouldn't steal from your own firm.” Obviously she'd been listening from the hallway.

“My fault,” he managed between sobs. “My fault. There's no one else. It must be me.”

“Hush, now, hush. You don't want me to have to call the doctor, do you? Everything's going to be all right. Mac will take care of it.” Her gaze challenged Mac.

“I'll take care of it,” he echoed. “It's all right.” He got up, mind spinning.

How much of that was true, and how much the ramblings of someone whose mind was going? Upset by Jason's death, Russ might well have brooded on it until convinced he'd caused it.

Mac didn't know. And until he was sure, how could he tell Kate that Russ thought he'd stolen from the firm? She'd insist on confronting him, and the damage that might do to Russ... Well, he just couldn't risk it. Not until he was sure this wasn't a figment of Russ's imagination.

He was letting Kate down, reneging on his agreement to share information. Whatever he did, someone was going to get hurt. All he could do was find the truth, and let the chips fall where they may.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

W
HEN
SHE
COULDN
'
T
stand the solitude any longer, Kate ventured out onto the porch. It was cooler today, with a chill in the air that reminded her it was fall. Time was passing.

She'd come here in hope of laying to rest her burden of grief and guilt. Unfortunately, what she'd found out was that no matter what answers turned up, she'd never be able to deny her responsibility for Jason. She wouldn't want to.

Knowing the people he'd met here, seeing the place where he'd died—none of that was as important as the Jason she carried in her heart.

Was she any nearer to finding the answers that had brought her to Laurel Ridge? It didn't seem so, but maybe that was the pain talking.

Giving in to depression wouldn't help. She'd be better off doing something, even if it led nowhere. She'd go over to Blackburn House—take a look at the scene of her misadventure in the daylight. Maybe something would come back to her. Or one of the people there might remember anything odd that had happened yesterday. Surely, if Ax Bolt had been in the building to plan a trap for her, someone would have noticed him. The most trivial incident would be better than what she had now.

Moving cautiously, she headed for the path through the shrubbery. She'd come this way last night, rushing and frightened for Emily. Running right into a trap that had been set for her.

Kate spotted a few broken twigs. She'd probably done that in her hurry. There was the root she'd stumbled on, nearly falling. She stepped over it carefully, mindful of how the slightest jolt sent the pain ricocheting through her shoulder.

If she hadn't gone rushing off, would Mac have caught the person playing tricks in the building? Somehow she didn't think it would have been that easy. There were too many hiding places, too many ways out of the old place. The person they sought was too clever to be caught so easily.

Why? She came back to the primary question again. Why would someone want to harm her? It wasn't as if she'd discovered anything. She didn't have a clue to the person who'd attacked her. The person who'd probably, in some way, led Jason to his death.

Kate came out into the open by the driveway with clenched fists. Who? Why? This was more frustrating than knowing nothing at all.

The yellow crime scene tape still adorned the outside of the side door, so it didn't look as if she could retrace her steps that far. She headed around the building toward the front door. She needed to do something.

The police had the search for Bolt well in hand, and there was nothing she could do that they couldn't do better. If Jason had died because he knew too much about drugs coming into town, Mac would find out.

But if someone else was involved, either because of drugs or for some other reason, it was possible that person would make a slip talking to her. A slim hope, she supposed, but better than sitting and brooding.

Not all lies indicated guilt. Some people just had to embroider what they knew, trying to appear important. Others were careful to present themselves in the best possible light. She'd dealt with both types as a reporter. It shouldn't be difficult to tell the difference, not if she listened as a reporter instead of as a grieving sister.

She'd nearly forgotten how imposing Blackburn House was from the front. The Italianate mansion must have been quite something when it was the most important house in town. Even now, its graceful lines and balanced exterior gave an air of dignity to the housing of shops and businesses.

Maybe the best place to start was with Nikki. Maybe, since Larry's injury and the focus on Ax Bolt, she'd be more forthcoming about her relationship with Jason. And Jason's relationship with his job. She could slip back to the bookshop and call her from there on the chance she could get out this afternoon.

Little though she would have imagined it a few weeks ago, she'd begun to care about this town. These were good people, by and large, and they didn't deserve either drug dealers or untrustworthy investment brokers.

No sooner had Kate entered the front hall than she realized that the idea of “slipping” anywhere without being seen was absurd. Sarah spotted her first and came hurrying from the quilt shop, calling to Allison. And Nick Whiting came out of the cabinetry showroom, leaving a pair of customers staring at what looked like samples.

“Hey, how are you?” Nick reached her first with the long, purposeful stride that reminded her of his brother.

“Shouldn't you be resting?” Sarah's expression was anxious.

“Of course she should.” Allison shook her head at Kate. “Mac is right. You're stubborn.”

Nick grinned. “If that isn't the pot calling the kettle black, I don't know what is.”

“If you're implying I'm stubborn...” Allison began.

Sarah interrupted by putting her arm around Kate's waist. “Won't you come in the shop and sit for a bit? I'll fix you a cup of tea.”

Their kindness was not only overwhelming, it was nearly suffocating. If she were on a city street, she could collapse in pain and everyone would walk on by.

“That's kind of you.” She disengaged herself firmly. “But I must go and see Emily. She called earlier, sounding so upset that I thought she'd like to see for herself that I'm all right.”

Sarah still looked concerned, but she nodded. “
Ja
, that's what it will take with Emily for sure. But if you need to rest afterward, you'll come to us, ain't so?”

Irrationally touched, Kate had no choice but to agree. “I will. Thanks.”

Allison insisted on walking with her back to the bookshop, just to be sure she was all right. “Mac would kill me if I let something happen to you,” she said, half laughing, half serious.

“Mac worries too much.”

“Not without reason,” Allison said. She gave Kate's hand a squeeze, and they parted at the door.

Of course Emily rushed at her but stopped short of an embrace. “I don't want to hurt your poor shoulder. I'm so upset about it. Mac told me you thought I was in the building when the lights went out and that's why you came rushing over and got hurt. Oh, my goodness, I can't tell you how sorry I am. If only...”

“It wasn't your fault.” Kate put her good arm around Emily and gave her a hug. Amazing, how people instantly assumed the burden of guilt. “I should have been more careful.”

And she was careful now, not sure what Mac might have told Emily. From her comments, it sounded as if Mac let her believe it was an accident, which might be the best thing.

Emily dabbed at her eyes. “Well, you surely didn't think you had to come in to work today.”

“No, I didn't intend to. I just felt like stretching my legs, and I thought I'd show you that I'm okay.” Although actually, her shoulder was starting to ache right up to her back teeth. “Is it okay if I use the phone? I just thought of a call I should make.”

“Of course, of course.” Emily waved to the phone. “When I came in, there was powdery stuff all over it. I don't know what Mac was thinking about to leave it that way. But it's all cleaned up now. I'll just take care of some things in the back room as long as you're here, but you call me if a customer comes in.”

Kate nodded, assuming that was Emily's way of giving her some privacy while she used the phone. And really, she could use it, given the difficulty she was likely to have getting Nikki to meet her again.

Simple enough to call the office number and ask if she was alone. At Nikki's cautious agreement, the job began in earnest.

“I have to see you again.” No point in beating around the bush. “We need to talk.”

“You shouldn't have called me at work.” Nikki sounded as if she were looking over her shoulder as she talked.

“How else was I going to get hold of you? Anyway, they can't know who you're talking to. Just don't mention my name.”

“I know a better way,” Nikki said. “I'll just hang up.”

“Don't.” She thought fast. “I suppose you heard what happened to me last night.”

“I heard you had an accident.”

“It wasn't an accident. Any more than what happened to Larry was an accident. I'm getting too close to something. That's why I need to talk to you again. You can help me figure out what.”

“No.” The word came quickly. “It's dangerous to be around you. Besides, if Mr. Gordon found out...”

“He won't. We'll meet someplace he'd never go. Out in public, so it's safe. Come on, Nikki. You were Jason's friend. Don't you want to help him?”

She sensed hesitation in Nikki's silence.

“Listen, meet me the same place as last time. Around eight. No one at the office will suspect a thing.” She didn't wait for agreement. “I'll see you then.” She hung up quickly before Nikki could find any other arguments.

She barely had time to look up before she saw Lina Oberlin entering the shop. For an instant she thought Lina had somehow found out about her call, but sheer common sense asserted itself. Lina couldn't possibly know.

Lina started toward her, a smile pinned to her face. “Kate, I'm so happy to see you out and about. Some of the rumors have you lying in the hospital unconscious.”

“Rumors always exaggerate. I'm a little sore from falling down the stairs, but otherwise fine.”

Setting her bag on the counter, Lina studied Kate as if looking for damage. “I must say, you look better than I expected. Just a little pale. Is that a bruise on your head? Are the doctors sure you don't have a concussion?”

“Positive.” Kate brushed a strand of hair across the angry-looking bruise. “I've always been told I have a hard head, and I guess that's true.”

Lina's visit to check up on her was a bit surprising, since Kate hadn't seen her since the day she'd stopped by the cottage to chat. Maybe Bart had sent her, hoping for news that she was leaving town?

“In this case, it must be an advantage. But what happened? I heard you interrupted a burglar.”

How much did the woman actually know? If Mac was downplaying the attack on her, he probably had a reason.

“I'm not sure of anything.” Maybe her fall would excuse anything she might seem to have forgotten. “I came over because I saw all the lights go off in the building. I guess I must have fallen in the dark.”

“That's not surprising. I was in the building once when the power went off, and I couldn't see a thing. I had to grope my way out. You're lucky it wasn't worse. But nothing was disturbed in our offices. Was anything taken down here?”

“Not that I know of. I suppose I might have made enough noise to scare someone away. Or it could have been an electrical fault.”

“That's just what I was telling Bart. It could have happened to any of us.” Her expression seemed to say she was suppressing Bart's opinion.

“Let me guess,” Kate said. “He thinks it serves me right for poking around.”

Lina gave a wry smile. “Something like that. You have to understand that he's worried about the business. The past few years haven't been easy.” She shook her head. “Sometimes he talks about throwing it all over and retiring to a Caribbean island, but I don't know how he'd afford to do that.”

She was about to say that she thought Bart would rather be a big frog in a little pond, but decided that wouldn't be tactful.

Lina picked up her bag as if preparing to leave, half turned and then stopped. “I... I suppose you know from Mac Whiting that Bart fired your brother.”

“Yes.” She waited, suspecting there was more to come.

“I just wanted to say that I'm sorry I couldn't tell you the whole story when I spoke with you before. Bart was so determined not to let anything out that might reflect badly on him, and I need my job. He's not one to forgive and forget if he thinks someone has betrayed his trust.”

Kate would like to believe she wouldn't knuckle under to a boss like that, but what did she know about Lina's circumstances? So she just nodded.

Lina, apparently satisfied, left more quickly than she'd come in, leaving Kate wondering what her real purpose had been. Trying to absolve herself of any blame for Jason's death? Clearing her own conscience? She wasn't sure.

But the things Lina had let fall about Bart's financial troubles were interesting. Everyone seemed to assume any problems with the firm had been due to Russell Sheldon's failing mental powers. Was it possible that it was Bart who couldn't live up to the reputation Sheldon had built for the firm?

And if so, might he have been responsible for the errors he'd blamed on Jason?

She'd like to talk it over with Mac, but she hadn't heard a word from him since this morning. Toying with the idea of calling him, Kate pulled out her phone and felt that familiar curl of warmth in her stomach at the thought of hearing his voice.

She shoved her phone out of sight. Things were tangled enough between them without her chasing him down when he was working. And what exactly was she going to do about that?

* * *

M
AC
STILL
HADN
'
T
figured out a way to look into that worrying claim Russ had made. He could never get an audit of the business ordered on that basis. He could try to talk to some of the investors, but he'd have to choose carefully if he didn't want the news getting right back to Bart.

The search for Ax Bolt seemed more urgent. He'd had a call from a nearby force, saying rumors indicated Bolt was back in Laurel Ridge. What he needed was a lead on where to look for him. So he headed to the hospital to see if he could get anything new out of Larry Foust.

According to his sources, Larry was nearly back to normal, but he'd conned the doctors into keeping him another day or two. Maybe he felt safer there.