Share No Secrets (15 page)

Adrienne started to fire back a scathing reply when she suddenly realized how awful Philip looked—gray, drawn, ten years older than he had last week when she’d seen him. He was unnerved by the situation—maybe even frightened—but there was something else wrong, too. She could see a vein throbbing in his temple. Was he on the verge of a stroke? Did healthy men in their mid-forties have strokes? She felt an unaccustomed twinge of concern for him.

“Be careful, Philip.” He threw a startled look at Adrienne. “Everyone is right. Someone could still be in the house. Take Brandon with you.”

“Brandon!” Skye cried. “No! He could get hurt!”

Philip paused, then raised an eyebrow at Adrienne. “I guess some people consider it better to sacrifice me than the dog,” he said dryly.

“Considering the way you’re acting, it’s no wonder,” Adrienne returned.

Rachel dropped a piece of glass from her ruined wind chimes and headed upstairs. Skye started to follow, then stopped. “I think she wants to be alone,” she whispered to Adrienne as Philip started down the hall. “Her dad hurt her feelings. I never heard him talk to her so mean before.”

“He’s upset.”

“Mom, sometimes I don’t get why Aunt Vicky married him. He’s such a grouch when he’s not in front of all the people he thinks are important and might vote for him.”

“I know, honey. But he didn’t use to be that way. When Vicky married him, he was charming and funny. A little bit arrogant, but still an agreeable person. He even liked
me”
Skye grinned. “I can’t imagine what’s happened to him over the years. But we’re not going to worry about Philip now. You and Brandon stay and protect me and Vicky.”

“I need a drink,” Vicky said suddenly. “Want one, Adrienne?”

“No. They gave me some kind of painkiller at the hospital. And I don’t think you should have one, either. The police might smell it on your breath.”

“To hell with them.” Resolutely, Adrienne and Skye trailed after Vicky into the kitchen and watched her mix two shots of vodka into a small glass of orange juice. As she took a large gulp, Adrienne wondered if alcohol was becoming a problem for her sister.

Fifteen minutes later, two deputies arrived. Every light was on, inside and outside, and Adrienne had caught sight of neighbors peering from their windows even though it was two-thirty in the morning. Vicky sipped a second drink and sat at the kitchen table, the earlier alarm in her blue eyes dulling to an indifferent glaze. Adrienne called Lucas and put on a pot of coffee while Skye hovered near the small kitchen television, ostensibly watching an old movie while keeping out of the way.

As the city deputies searched the house, Philip stalked after them, with loud, nonstop hectoring. Adrienne knew someone less influential than Philip Hamilton would have been told to sit down and stay out of the way while the deputies did their work. Which is exactly what Lucas Flynn did when he arrived. He took Philip aside and talked with him earnestly. After a couple of minutes, Adrienne could see some of the tension ease from Philip’s rigid face and shoulders. For a man like him, she guessed, merely having the county’s chief law enforcement officer present at his little drama would make Philip feel better.

Shortly afterward, Lucas had a moment alone with Adrienne. “I didn’t find out until about eleven o’clock what happened to you on the street this evening. God, I’m sorry.”

“I’ll live. But I did come here to spend the night because I thought I’d be safer. So much for my infallible judgment.”

Lucas shrugged. “You couldn’t have guessed this would happen. The security system wasn’t turned on and there’s no sign of a break-in. Any idea what’s going on here?”

“You mean it was an inside job?” Lucas’s mouth quirked at her language. She ignored his amusement. “Do any of us strike you as likely suspects, Sheriff?”

“For breaking wind chimes and blasting a boom box in the middle of the night? Not really.”

“Nothing was taken?”

“Not according to Philip.”

“Lucas, this is even stranger than it seems. Those candles are the same scent as the ones that were in Julianna’s room at the hotel. And the song playing on the boom box was ‘Sweet Dreams’ by the Eurythmics. That has been Julianna’s favorite song for twenty years. She played tapes and CDs of it, and she sang it all the time.” Suddenly Adrienne felt as if Julianna were running one of her long, cool fingers down her neck, filling her with a terrible feeling of dread.

“Lucas, someone knew I’d immediately connect the candles with finding Julianna’s body. And they knew I’d associate ‘Sweet Dreams’ with Julianna,” she said urgently. “The song wasn’t a random selection.”

He looked at her in concern. “Then why was it being played in
this
house?”

“Because somebody is watching me and knew I was here tonight.” Unconsciously, she reached out and clutched his wrist. “Lucas, that song was meant as a threat to
me”

Although the police left within the hour and everybody went back to bed, Adrienne doubted if anyone got any sleep. By six o’clock, everyone except Vicky was up, all in varying degrees of tired grouchiness except for the irrepressible Brandon, who seemed to have found the evening’s uproar vastly entertaining. His mood improved even more when at six-thirty the housekeeper, Mrs. Pitt, arrived and, after fixing breakfast for the humans, gave him a big slice of ham with scrambled eggs and a freshly baked biscuit.

Just as Adrienne was popping a piece of warm, buttery biscuit into her own mouth, Margaret arrived, a well-dressed whirlwind, asking questions about the break-in, taking notes, firing orders to everyone present about what should and should not be said to reporters, whom she referred to as “vultures.”

Rachel looked at her sourly. “It’s so nice to know you think of me as a vulture, Margaret.”

“I don’t. You’re just a summer intern on a local paper, not a real reporter,” Margaret returned with cold dismissal.

Rachel clattered her fork on her plate and pushed her chair away from the table. “I’ve had enough.” She glared at Margaret. “Of breakfast
and
you. As far as I’m concerned, you can—”

Adrienne interrupted loudly. “Mrs. Pitt, will you fix a pot of coffee for me to take up to Vicky?” Rachel stomped out of the kitchen, throwing a murderous look at Margaret. “And maybe a couple of those delicious biscuits, too.”

Mrs. Pitt, a middle-aged woman cursed with a face that looked like she’d bitten into an unripe persimmon and blessed with the disposition of an angel, nodded and smiled. “Coming right up,” she said as she retrieved a thermos and breakfast tray from a cabinet. “Mrs. Hamilton
is
partial to my biscuits.”

“Where’s Vicky?” Margaret demanded. “Is she sick?”

Adrienne bristled at her tone. “Vicky was tired after the party last night and the break-in certainly didn’t help. She didn’t sleep a wink.” Adrienne had no idea whether or not Vicky had slept, but she felt protective of her sister in the face of Margaret’s aggressiveness. “She needs to spend the morning in bed.”

Margaret huffed with impatience at this frailty on Vicky’s part, but before she had a chance to say anything, Philip intervened. “I’m not feeling on top of the world, either. Let’s take this morning off, Margaret”

She looked at him as if he’d just ordered her to strip naked. Her eyes widened, her lips parted, and her whole body registered shock. ‘Take the morning off? The
entire
morning? He nodded. “Philip, have you forgotten the Woman’s Club luncheon? We need to go over your speech. And I want to bring you up to speed on that new sewer project in Baker County.”

“If there’s one thing I can’t bear to talk about this morning, it’s a sewer system,” Philip groaned as he poured a third cup of coffee. “And I know my speech, although I’m cutting down on some of the statistics you added.”

“Are you saying
women
are bored by statistics?” Margaret asked stiffly.

“I’m saying that at this kind of gathering,
everyone
is bored by a barrage of statistics. It’s a luncheon, Margaret, not a corporate board meeting.”

Margaret’s carefully colored lips compressed in annoyance. A slim foot encased in an expensive taupe pump tapped on the vinyl kitchen floor. “Maybe you’ll feel more like working in an hour or so.”

“Maybe,” Philip said offhandedly. “But I don’t think so. After all, Margaret, we’re leaving day after tomorrow for the northern part of the state. Even though I have this luncheon, I need the afternoon and evening to rest. We’ve had a hectic schedule for the past couple of months.” Adrienne noticed that he looked deeply tired, as if all his natural dynamism had drained away during the night.

“Vicky
will
rouse herself to go on the trip north, won’t she?” Margaret asked testily. “It’s important for her to be by your side.”

“She knows that and of course she’ll go,” Philip said. “Rachel will stay here since she has a job, so at least you won’t have to put up with her since you two don’t seem to get along.”

Margaret looked offended. “I try to get along with Rachel.
She
is the problem.”

“Whatever.” Philip glanced at his gung-ho assistant. “Since you have so much energy this morning, Margaret, you can give Adrienne and Skye a ride home.”

“Take them home?” Margaret couldn’t hide the dismay in her voice. “All the way home?”

Philip looked exasperated. “No, Margaret, I thought you could drop them at the corner and maybe they could hitch a ride to their house. Yes,
all
the way home.”

“I didn’t mean it the way it sounded. It’s just that I have so much to do.” Margaret sighed. “All right. Since you don’t want to work, I might as well put my time to good use.” She paused, her gaze falling on Brandon who was scooting his bowl around the kitchen, trying to get the last morsels of food. “You want me to take the dog, too?”

“I don’t think Skye is inclined to give him up.” Philip managed a small smile for Skye. “So, yes, the dog will go, too. Soon. I can tell Adrienne and Skye are anxious to get home. We didn’t offer them a very peaceful night.”

“Fine,” Maigaret said shortly. She shot a glance somewhere just past Adrienne’s head. “Ready to go?”

Adrienne hadn’t considered leaving yet, but Philip was obviously in a hurry to clear his house of her and Skye. And especially Brandon. He couldn’t hide his impatience. “I’m not even dressed, Margaret,” Adrienne said. “Give us twenty minutes.”

Exactly twenty-three minutes later Margaret hustled them into her car. The rain had stopped hours ago. The sky was cloudless and, in the morning sun, the grass and flowers looked bright and renewed. As they pulled out of the driveway, Adrienne exclaimed, “Isn’t it a beautiful morning?”

“I suppose,” Margaret said flatly.

“
I
think it’s a beautiful morning, Mom,” Skye said dutifully.

Adrienne looked at the stone-faced Margaret. “I’m sorry to put you out like this. I’ll be glad to pay for having the inside of your car detailed if Brandon has gotten hair on the upholstery.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Margaret said curtly. Her plans for the morning had gone haywire and she wasn’t taking the change well. Flexibility wasn’t one of her strong points, Adrienne thought, both amused and annoyed. “A long-haired dog is terribly messy, though,” Margaret added. “If you must have a dog, a poodle is best.
They
don’t shed.”

“Well, now, isn’t that just fabulous for them?” Adrienne shot back sharply. Margaret’s jaw tightened, but there was nothing Adrienne could say to take the sting from her words. She decided to leave well enough alone.

Afterward, only the sound of Brandon’s panting broke the silence on the uncomfortable three-mile drive home. Adrienne felt like whooping with joy when they turned onto her street until she saw two patrol cars parked in front of her house.

“Good God,
now
what?” Margaret burst out.

Adrienne leaned forward in her seat, as if a closer look could make the certain sign of trouble disappear. But the patrol cars remained. She saw Lucas standing on the front walk.

“Mom?” Skye said tentatively from the backseat.

“Lucas is here,” Adrienne answered. “Everything will be all right.”

Adrienne didn’t know what was wrong, but having the sheriff on the scene lowered her fear level a notch. Margaret pulled into the driveway and sighed. “I’ll wait to find out what’s wrong.”

“You don’t have to, Margaret. I’m sure there’s nothing you can do to help.”

“Philip will need to be informed of the current problem.”

I see. You’re not staying because of us, you’re staying because of
Philip,”
Adrienne returned sharply. “He’s always your number one concern.”

Margaret said coolly, “I get paid to make him my number one concern.”

I just hope making him your priority is professional, not emotional, Adrienne thought, but kept her mouth shut. Now certainly wasn’t the time to start an argument with Margaret.

Adrienne got out of the car as Lucas walked up to her. He looked tired and a bit rigid around the mouth, the way he always did when he was under strain. “What’s happened?” she blurted before he had a chance to say anything.

“A city deputy cruised past this morning. He knew about your mugging and that you’d spent the night at your sister’s, but the front door was wide open, so he stopped to take a look. He knows about our relationship so he called me as well as the other city cops. We haven’t had time to do a thorough search, but your place has been tossed.”

‘Tossed?”

“Searched. There doesn’t seem to be any real damage, so vandalism wasn’t the cause, and theft appears to be out because your televisions, VCR, DVD player, and stereo haven’t been touched.”

“Searched,” Adrienne repeated, then fell silent for a few seconds to process the information. Then it hit her. “The camera! Someone was looking for the camera with the pictures I took at the Belle!”

Lucas raised his eyebrows. “What pictures are you talking about?”

Adrienne went to Margaret’s car, opened the back door, and withdrew her denim jacket. “This was soaked so Margaret gave me her raincoat and I threw my jacket in the backseat and forgot it.” She plunged her hand into the inner pocket. “Here it is!” She held up the Olympus Zoom 170 and boomed triumphantly, “It’s been in Margaret’s car all night. Not at my house, not at Vicky’s!”