Obsession (8 page)

She nodded. “Yes. Thank you.”

No one spoke as Abe walked to his car, climbed in, and drove away. As the black Honda disappeared down the street, Brad gently took Toni's arm and turned her toward him. Even his courtroom face could no longer hide the hurt she saw in his hazel eyes. “We have to talk,” he said. “Now.”

CHAPTER 4

T
hey had no sooner walked in the front door than Melissa picked up her diary from the coffee table, and without so much as a word or a backward glance, disappeared into her room. Toni could only imagine what must be going through her impressionable young mind, not to mention her very tender and vulnerable heart, but she would simply have to wait and deal with Melissa after she had explained things to Brad.

Toni looked up at Brad. He stared back at her, silent and unmoving, a myriad of unspoken questions and accusations reflected in his eyes. Toni could not remember a time, in all the years they had known each other, when she had sensed such awkwardness and tension between them. “Let's sit down,” she said, determined not to have such an emotionally volatile conversation while standing in the middle of the living room. Not waiting for him to respond, she walked to the
couch and sat down at one end. Brad followed, lowering himself carefully onto the opposite end.

Even in his casual slacks and open-collared, short-sleeved summer shirt, Brad looked neat—calm and unruffled, as if he had everything under control. Toni knew better. They had known each other for so long and shared so much that she could read him like a book. She chided herself for the half-truth she had told him the day before and for not having made more of an effort to confide in him sooner about the reason for her involvement with Abe Matthews. But what was done was done; it could not be changed now. She took a deep breath, resolved to tell him everything and to see that nothing like this ever came between them again.

“I'm so sorry. I really wanted to explain to you about what was going on with Abe—”

There was a hardness in his voice she had never heard before as he interrupted her. “Just what is going on, Toni? How serious is your relationship with this… detective?”

She was fighting tears now, angry—not so much with Brad for asking such questions as with herself for putting him in the position where he felt the need to do so. “It's not serious at all,” she answered, her throat constricting around every word. “At least not the way you mean. What's going on has nothing to do with Abe and me, personally. It's about Dad—about how he died, and whether or not there's some connection between his death and the Julie Greene case.”

Brad seemed incredulous. “The Julie Greene case? Are you still harping on that? Toni, just because you have a P. I. license doesn't make you one. You went to college to become a teacher, not an investigator. Besides, in case you've forgotten, your father had a heart attack. That's how he died. Period. I know it's tragic, and I know it has hurt you deeply, but there is nothing suspicious or sinister about it. People die of heart attacks all the time, especially people with heart conditions. You're really going off the deep end on this one if you think you can somehow hang on to your dad by trying to turn his
death into some sort of mystery that needs to be solved. And now you're trying to tell me that the police department has sent this… detective… to investigate your father's death, based on nothing more than your suspicions about his involvement with some missing girl? Come on, Toni. You don't really expect me to buy that, do you?”

Toni felt a flash of anger at his insinuation that there was anything more to her relationship with Abe than a mutual interest to discover any previously undisclosed truth about how and why her father had died. But the anger subsided as she reminded herself that if she had been totally honest with Brad from the beginning, they would not be having this conversation.

“No. I am not trying to tell you that the police department has assigned Abe to investigate my father's death. He's offered to do it on his own time. Then, if we—if he—comes up with something concrete, he'll contact the county sheriff's office, since Eagle Lake is in their jurisdiction, to see about opening an official investigation. That's what we were talking about when you ran into us in town yesterday, and that's why we were up at the lake this afternoon, looking for evidence, but—”

“But what? You didn't find any, did you?”

“Not yet. But Abe said—”

“I don't really care what Abe said. You didn't find any evidence to confirm your suspicions today, and you're not going to find any in the future. This guy is just leading you on.”

“That's not fair. He's only trying to help.”

“Oh, that's right. I forgot. He's doing all this on his own, isn't he? Not in an official capacity, just as a ‘friend.’” Brad spoke slowly and deliberately, but the sarcasm was obvious. “Out of nothing more than the goodness of his heart, Abe Matthews is sacrificing his free time to help you track down some unknown evidence on a case that isn't a case and isn't even in his jurisdiction. Am I just supposed to accept that and be relieved that you're doing nothing more than playing detective together?”

Toni was losing her battle for control. Even as she continued to remind herself that Brad was only reacting to a situation she herself had caused, her resentment at his tone and implications was growing. When she finally answered, her words were almost as slow and deliberate as Brad's had been. “We are not ‘playing detective.’ We are simply trying to find out if there is any connection between Dad's death and the notation in Julie Greene's file. And even though there's no real evidence to open an official investigation, at least I have an experienced detective who is willing to help me check this thing out. Brad, can't you see? Besides the fact that Julie's grandmother seemed so certain that Dad was right on the verge of getting a break in the case just before he died, doesn't it seem like more than a coincidence that he would leave a note about Eagle Lake and the exact date of his death in that file?”

“You don't know that it was the same Wednesday.”

“That's true,” she conceded. “But if it was—”

“If it was what?” Brad interrupted, his voice rising in volume and intensity. “Toni, your father had a heart attack. He wasn't shot or bludgeoned or stabbed. He had a heart attack. That's it. Nothing more. So what difference does it make if it was the same Wednesday or not? Why can't you just accept the fact that your father is gone and let this thing go?”

The silence hung between them as Toni absorbed the impact of Brad's words. She knew he wasn't trying to hurt her—even though he had—and that he was trying to help her face the truth and go on with her life—
their
life. But what if he was wrong? What if there
was
something to the notation in that file? Didn't she owe it to her dad to find out?

Before she could answer, Brad had reached across the divide on the couch and gathered her into his arms. After only a brief hesitation, she moved toward him and let him hold her.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered. “I shouldn't have talked to you that way. It was totally insensitive and uncalled for. Forgive me?”

She nodded, her head resting against his chest.

“I should have known there was nothing between you and this Matthews guy,” Brad went on. “Even if I don't know him, I know you. That should be enough. It's just that…”

She nodded again, blinking back tears. “It's OK. Really. And it's my fault for not telling you about this sooner. I meant to, but… it just always seemed that the timing was wrong.” She looked up at him. “Forgive me too?”

His half-smile warmed her heart. “Of course, I forgive you. How could I ever stay mad at you?” He kissed her forehead, then pulled back and looked into her eyes. “But I'm still worried. I know this guy is a detective, and he may be a really nice guy, but… he's not blind. You're an attractive woman, and I can't help but think that his willingness to help you with this situation has at least something to do with his wanting to be around you. I'm sorry, but that's the way I see it.”

She opened her mouth to protest, to tell him that there was absolutely nothing about Abe's behavior to indicate an interest in her as a woman—but she couldn't. Deep down, she, too, had suspected as much. But that didn't change the fact that she needed Abe right now. Besides, suspecting he was interested in her didn't make it so. His intentions could be completely aboveboard. She only hoped the same was true about her own. The realization shocked her, and she resolved to put such thoughts out of her mind.

“Whether Abe has any personal interest in me, I can't say for certain—although I doubt seriously that he does,” she added quickly, hoping she sounded as convincing as she was determined to be. “Either way, this is strictly a professional relationship—and a temporary one, at that. As soon as we've settled this question about Dad's death and any possible involvement with the Julie Greene case, Detective Abe Matthews is out of my life.”

Brad's smile widened slightly. “Sounds like a promise.”

“It is.”

“Then make me another one.”

She raised her eyebrows questioningly.

“From now on, I want to be told about any and all aspects of this so-called investigation
before
they happen. No more of this ‘after the fact’ stuff, please. And if Abe decides to go snooping around on some investigative hunch and invites you to come along, will you at least think twice before saying yes? I'd rather not have you spending any more time alone with this guy than absolutely necessary. Fair enough?”

“More than fair.” She reached up and put her arm around his neck, pulling him down to her for a kiss. He quickly obliged, sealing the promise. They didn't even notice that Melissa had come out of her room and was standing, motionless, in the shadow of the hallway.

The weather had cooled off a bit, but the sun still peeked through the clouds as Abe pulled up in front of the general store at Eagle Lake. It was just before nine o'clock on Sunday morning, and only one lone vehicle—a rusty '78 Ford pickup with an empty gun rack in the back window—occupied the parking lot in front of the old building. Abe hoped he would find Maude Olson inside, feeling as talkative as she had been the day before when he and Toni were there.

Forcing his thoughts, once again, away from Toni Matthews and on to the task at hand, he stepped inside the dimly lit store and paused, taking a moment to let his eyes adjust. As they did, he looked around, but Maude was nowhere in sight. A slightly built older man, with a thin wisp of gray hair combed from one side of his head to the other in a vain attempt to disguise his baldness, stood behind the counter. He was handing some change to the only other person in the store, a middle-aged, heavyset man in a plaid shirt, overalls, and boots. As the customer pocketed his change, picked up his package, and walked past Abe to the door, the fish smell that wafted after him
confirmed Abe's hunch that the man had probably already been out on the lake that morning. Abe stepped up to the counter.

“Hello,” he said, as the older man eyed him curiously. “Are you, by any chance, Simon Olson, Maude Olson's husband?”

“Not by chance, by design,” he answered, flashing a crooked smile. “And who might you be, and how do you know my wife?”

Reluctant to give the false impression that he was there in any sort of official capacity, Abe refrained from showing his police identification. “I'm Abe Matthews,” he said. “I'm a friend of Toni Matthews. In fact, I was up here with her yesterday, and we talked with your wife.”

Simon's blue-gray eyes lit up in recognition. “Aha. The wife told me you two was up here. First time that older Matthews girl's been up here in quite a while. Too bad 'bout her dad. That Paul Matthews was a real nice man. A regular 'round here, him and his whole family been comin' up here for years.” He stopped suddenly and frowned. “What'd you say your name was?”

“Matthews. Abe Matthews. No relation to Toni.”

Simon still looked puzzled. “I thought you was Toni Matthews's fiancé. Seems kinda strange, you two havin' the same name and all. Course, I 'magine it'll be right handy for her. Won't have to change her name when you get married.”

Abe smiled. “I'm afraid I'm not her fiancé. Just a friend.”

“You say that like you wished it was different.”

Abe raised his eyebrows. “Oh, well, no. I just meant…” He cleared his throat. “Like I said, we're friends.”

“From what the wife told me 'bout your visit yesterday, you must be real good friends. Sounded like you two was stuck together like glue. Can't say as I'd want my fiancée runnin' ‘round with some other man she was all that close with. What's the future husband think of this so-called friendship?” He pursed his lips for emphasis as he waited for Abe to answer.

The memory of Brad and Melissa standing on the porch and staring at them as he and Toni walked toward the house from his car the
previous day flashed through his mind. Although he didn't know it for a fact, he was pretty sure the “future husband” didn't like the relationship between Toni and Abe one bit. But he wasn't about to tell Simon Olson that.

Shrugging his shoulders as if it were no big deal, Abe said, “Actually, I'm a friend of the family—well, of Paul Matthews, that is. I brought Toni up here yesterday because she wanted to find out if anyone might have anything to tell her about her father's death—anything that she might not already know, that is.”