Midas Murders [Book 3 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries] (13 page)

"That wasn't Carl.” Lars handed her the keys. “I've had enough of your nonsense. Kate's not leaving until she's ready."

"Yes, Daddy.” She walked to the door.

"Come to dinner tomorrow at seven,” I said.

"Just tell me the name of the restaurant and I'll meet you there.” She smiled. “See, Daddy."

"Here. I'm cooking."

"How sweet.” She walked away. “Of course I'll come."

Once she left, Lars took my hands in his. “You don't have to spend your vacation cooking."

"I won't. Where are we going for dinner tonight?"

He laughed. “Somewhere you'll enjoy and where you can look at knickknacks if we have to wait for a table.” He studied me. “This dinner tomorrow. Just what are you planning."

"A quiet evening with family and friend."

"Now why don't I believe you? I imagine you have an agenda."

"Do I?” If he could hide things from me, I could do the same. “What was that phone call about?"

"Something between my daughter and me. Go change and wear the silver and turquoise set."

I paused at the end of the hall. “Knickknacks and formal dress?"

"Not really. I just want to make sure you enjoy the gift."

"I do.” Should I tell him now that they were missing? I decided to wait.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Quite unwillingly Lars drove me to the grocery store where I purchased the ingredients I needed for the dinner party this evening. Though he grumbled about my hidden agenda, my determination to make sense of the problems surrounding him remained strong.

Dinner at seven for six guests and hopefully answers for some of the questions that buzzed in my thoughts like bees in a summer garden. While silence may be golden, I have my doubts about the truth of that adage.

As soon as we returned to the house, Lars closed himself in his study. He refused to discuss either of the kidnappings or ease my curiosity about Damon's enigmatic statement. This morning at breakfast I'd asked again. Lars had shaken his head. Regretfully I'd pushed further questions aside. The walls Lars had erected seemed far too high to climb. Burrowing beneath a barrier takes time, but somehow I would have my answers.

Just before lunch he emerged and walked to the mailbox that stood outside the gates. When he returned, something in his expression gave me concern. He slumped in a chair at the kitchen table.

"Lars, what happened?"

He handed me an envelope about the size of a party invitation. “This."

I pulled the card free and read the brief message.

The time to listen has arrived.

Ramona Claybourne did not die in an

accident. Proof will be forthcoming.

I waved the card. “You must show this to the police."

He plucked it from my hand. “Not yet."

"Why not? Lars, you need to tell them about the two kidnappings and what you suspect is happening in regard to the business."

"I don't have enough data about the thefts. Besides I was right about the reason for the kidnappings."

"How can you say that?"

"The phone call last evening. The man said Bonnie would be released the moment you boarded a plane for New York."

"So where did the ransom come in?"

"I have no idea."

"What about this card?"

"It proves nothing. If I had any evidence that Ramona was murdered, I'd go straight to the police."

"Don't throw it away like you did the others."

He nodded. “I'll keep it, but until there's tangible evidence this stays between us.” He took a sandwich and a glass of juice to his study.

Exasperation drove me to the foyer. Lars knew some of the missing pieces I needed to solve the puzzling events that had happened during my stay. How could I persuade him to divulge them?

I snatched my jacket from the closet. In hopes a walk would ease my annoyance with the man who'd been my friend for years and who was the lover I might never know. I strode to the door.

Why wouldn't he go to the police and let them look into these bizarre events? Just because he believed his daughter was involved wasn't reason enough for me. I'd give him the rest of the weekend before I issued an ultimatum. Let me help you with your problems or there's no reason for us to consider marriage.

A yearning for my peaceful Hudson River village made me pause. Did I really want to leave Lars to face his troubles alone?

I'd come here looking for an escape from the guilt that had plagued me since Roger's death. Though not completely gone, that emotion was now buried beneath the mudslide of new mysteries. Part of me wanted to leave. Part of me wanted to accept Lars’ marriage proposal. I knew this wasn't the time to act on either. Until I learned what was happening here and why, I couldn't walk away and I couldn't tell Lars yes.

I stood at the stove and stirred a red sauce redolent with garlic and basil. When worries swarm like gnats, cooking is my escape.

How could I encourage Lars to examine the farcical nature of the double kidnapping? Had it truly been a game to send me running from Santa Fe? Lars believed it was.

A million dollars waited to be claimed in a Florida bank. Carl hadn't come home last night. To me that added up to his guilt.

The note Lars had received this morning added another strand to the widening web. While not a threat, I'd sensed a subtle kind of taunting that frightened me more than anything about this affair. Was there more than one threat? Was I seeing plots within plots and conspirators in quantity?

I tasted the sauce and reached for the garlic to add a sprinkle of powder. The multitude of inconsistencies in Bonnie's kidnapping had left questions she hadn't answered. Who was the friend she'd stayed with? Perhaps Verdigras. The revelation about Bonnie's past connection to the young doctor had taken me by surprise. I'd been so sure of her attraction to Damon.

Why had the ransom note arrived before the event? The whole affair reminded me of one of those single color jigsaw puzzles where only the shape of the pieces aids solution. Unfortunately this enigma had too many missing pieces.

A second taste of the sauce earned a contented sigh. Perfect. In a heated skillet, I braised seasoned and floured veal medallions.

How could I find the missing pieces? Tonight I hoped to open Lars’ eyes to his daughter's selfish behavior. I also prayed I'd find some answers. The players would be present, including Rafe. Would he follow my lead and help me extract a few facts?

Though I hadn't made the suggestion, I prayed Megan would leave the kitten at home. Bonnie's distaste for cats might cause a scene I didn't want.

Lars strode into the kitchen. “Smells wonderful, but we could have gone to a restaurant. I know at least a dozen you would enjoy."

Not for what I had in mind.

"Cooking settles my nerves. They've been stretched a bit thin lately."

He hugged me. “I do wish our time together had been different. I wanted to show you the area, to enjoy these weeks, to help you over your grief. I never intended to inflict my problems on you."

"I know that.” I spooned sauce over the veal. “Your problems have been simmering for a long time. Maybe I'm a catalyst."

He kissed my nape. “I've decided to take action. Asked Rafe to look into that company in Florida. He's also trying to learn where Carl was when I disappeared. You know, he never came home and he didn't call."

"He was in a meeting with Damon. At least that's what the secretary told Don. Do you trust her?"

"Absolutely. Maybe she was mistaken. I asked Bonnie to look at the house for that ransom note. So far she's had no luck."

"What about looking at the office?"

"Rafe plans to go there after dinner.” He sucked in a breath. “Just to let you know you were on target about my daughter. She had an appointment with a divorce lawyer this morning."

"Will she marry Jaime Verdigras?"

"I don't know. When she broke the engagement, she was furious. She finds forgiveness hard to grant."

He was right about that. “I really thought there was something between her and Damon."

"Hardly likely?"

"Why not? He's her age and an attractive man."

"Just take my word that he's not her type.” He drew me closer. “I've made a decision that could change things for us. I'm putting my retirement on hold."

He sounded weary. I turned to face him. “You'll do what you feel you must, but I don't understand."

"She'll need me."

As always, I thought. I stared over his shoulder and struggled to hide my disappointment.

He caressed my shoulders. “I know. Another delay."

And for the same reason.

I forced a smile. “We're friends and will always have that. Let me get back to work so our guests won't starve."

After preparing the garlic bread, I assembled the dessert. Pound cake sliced in layers, sweetened ricotta cheese with bits of chocolate and walnuts added. Later I'd ice the cake with a milk chocolate glaze.

When all but the last minute things were done, I changed into a forest green dress. Then I carried a mug of aromatic tea to the living room and sat in one of the chairs facing the fireplace. Strains of Chopin filled the air.

Lars folded his newspaper. “Guess you couldn't wear the necklace tonight."

"Would clash.” Soon I'd have to tell him they were gone, but not tonight.

"All set?"

"Until they arrive. What have you been doing?"

"Mulling matters."

"You mentioned several businesses Carl recommended that failed. How closely were you involved with them?"

"Just the first one and we bailed out before we took a real loss. The second one Bonnie oversaw while I was back east. We didn't fare as well. Why do you ask?"

I cradled the mug for warmth and courage. What I planned to say might upset him. “Could these businesses have been chosen as a way to siphon money into someone's pockets?"

His groan was long and loud. “You have a devious mind, but you could be right. Carl always needs money. I trusted him. So did Bonnie. I let her handle the second venture. Wanted her to have a chance to prove herself. Was that wrong?"

"No.” The blame was in not being willing to admit none of his children had the touch or the interest. Bonnie's failure explained why he wanted Don to give up art and try business.

I leaned toward him. “I know she denies knowing about the company in Florida. Could she be lying? Could that be her way of persuading Carl to agree to the divorce?"

"Kate, please. Don't blame her for everything."

"I'm not. Just looking at the possibilities. Maybe you should just close up shop."

"I would, but Bonnie's life is built around the idea of being in control of the company."

"And your life is controlled by taking care of her.” The words rushed out and my regret was instant.

He reached for my hand. “Perhaps and perhaps I'm responsible for her attitudes."

"How so?"

"Bonnie has seen how much I love finding new ventures. She's always tried to please me. When Marie died the business became my escape from the cares of raising a family alone."

"You didn't have to be alone."

"I know and I should have...but that's part of my problem.” He shook his head. “Once the children were grown, work became my life. An error in judgment, I know. You tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen."

The logs in the fireplace snapped and sent forth a shower of sparks. “You listened and then did as you pleased. Sometimes you're dense."

He squeezed my fingers. “I want to be involved in life the way you are. You're surrounded by people who love and care about you. Other than you and my children, my other acquaintances just brush the surface of my life."

Though I understood his feelings, I wondered how he would function when work no longer formed the boundaries of his life. Unlike me, he'd never been involved in the community. Oh, he'd given his name and money to charities, but he'd never delivered food to the poor or offered comfort to someone who had lost their home, a job or a loved one. He'd never meddled in people's lives the way I have. His habit of dividing his time between two widely separated areas hadn't encouraged involvement.

"Habits developed over the years are almost impossible to break,” I said.

He met my gaze. “I want to try. Will you help?"

Before I had a chance to answer, the doorbell pealed and the front door opened. Megan ran into the room. “Pop, Aunt Kaferine, see my new dress.” The long skirt of her fiesta dress swirled around her ankles.

"Very pretty,” Lars and I said.

"We're early,” Don said. “She couldn't wait."

Lars chuckled. “I see you left the kitten at home."

"My sister will be upset enough about eating dinner with a child. Rose Prairie would have sent her running home."

His statement nettled me. “What's wrong with children dining with adults? How else will they learn table manners?"

"From the nanny my sister suggests I hire to keep Megan out of sight."

Megan crawled onto Lars’ lap. “I make a picture for Aunt Kaferine.” She handed me a slightly crumpled piece of drawing paper. “You can take it home and show big Rose Prairie."

Though primitive, the drawing looked surprisingly like the kitten. “Did your daddy help?"

She shook her head. “Just me."

Don nodded. “She likes making pictures, but I won't push her. Just provide the means for expression. If she's still interested when she's in her teens, we'll talk about lessons."

"Good thinking.” Another evidence of his ability as a single parent. “Let me put this away.” When I returned from the guest room, I held out my hands to Megan. “Want to help me?"

"Yes."

Once the cake was glazed and all but the pasta cooking, I carried a tray of vegetables to the living room. Megan brought the dip. A short time later, Bonnie and then Damon arrived.

Damon handed me a bouquet of red and white roses. “For the hostess."

"Thank you.” I peered into the foyer. “Has anyone heard from Carl?"