Slow Burn (12 page)

Chapter Nineteen

The letter arrived by special messenger at ten o’clock that evening. Everyone heard the doorbell ring, though they were each in different areas of the house.

Isabel was upstairs packing; Kiera was in the kitchen folding laundry, and Kate had spread the papers from the CPA firm on the coffee table to search for a copy of the loan agreement. Dylan had decided to do a home security check and was moving from room to room inspecting the doors and windows.

“I’ve got it,” Isabel shouted from the upstairs landing.

“No, you don’t,” Dylan replied in a no-nonsense tone of voice as he came from the back of the house. He went outside and pulled the door closed behind him. Isabel watched from the side window.

“Who’s at the door?” Kate asked.

“Some man with an envelope. Dylan just made him show him his driver’s license. That’s kind of odd, isn’t it?”

“It’s late,” Kate offered as an excuse.

“I think he’s scared of Dylan. If you could see his face . . .” She jumped back so Dylan wouldn’t know she’d been watching when he opened the door.

“One of you needs to sign for this.”

“Who would send something this late at night?” Isabel asked as Kate signed the form.

The envelope was marked
URGENT
.
That can’t be good,
Kate thought. She looked at the return address and wanted to groan. The envelope had come from a law firm, and that definitely couldn’t be good.

“Who’s it from?” Isabel asked.

“Smith and Wesson.”

“The gun company?”

“The law firm.”

Concerned that the letter was delivering more financial bad news, Isabel snatched the envelope out of Kate’s hand so that Dylan wouldn’t see it. “Why don’t we let Kiera open this,” she said as she quickly headed to the kitchen.

Kate didn’t follow her. If it was another unpleasant surprise, she didn’t want to be the one to break it to the others this time. She returned to her work in the living room. So far, she hadn’t found the loan agreement, nor had she found a ledger summarizing the account since Tucker Simmons, the CPA, had taken it over. She was just about to go through the stacks once again when Kiera interrupted her.

“Kate, you’ve got to read this.” She held up the letter. Her face was flushed.

Isabel followed close behind. “It’s not about the loan, is it?”

“No, no. This is from an attorney in Savannah representing Compton Thomas MacKenna.”

Isabel was trying to read the letter, but Kiera kept waving it around.

“Who’s Compton Thomas MacKenna?” Isabel asked.

“I’m not sure. Maybe he was our father’s father or maybe an uncle. He could even be a cousin.”

Kiera stepped over a file box and sat down next to Kate. Isabel dropped down on her other side.

“Either read it to me or let me read it,” Isabel said. “The suspense is killing me.”

Kiera handed her the letter. She read it out loud and then said, “Isn’t this exciting? I wonder what this Compton Thomas MacKenna wants.”

“It appears he wants us to come to Savannah. It says he requests our presence,” Kiera answered.

“I’m not going,” Kate said.

“What do you mean you’re not going? Shouldn’t we at least think about it?” Isabel asked.

An argument ensued, and Dylan walked right into the middle of it. “Kate, the back door—”

“I mean I’m not going,” Kate said. “You two can do whatever you want, but I don’t want to have anything to do with those people. Our father’s family disowned him when he married Mother, and I have no interest in meeting any of them now.”

Isabel was becoming more and more frustrated. “But one of us has to go, and it should be you, Kate. Maybe this man wants to beg our forgiveness. He said the matter was of the utmost importance. It must be, because he wants us there tomorrow afternoon.”

“We’re supposed to drop everything and drive to Savannah with absolutely no notice? I don’t think so. I’m not going.”

“Going where?” Dylan asked.

No one answered him. The sisters were all talking at the same time. It was loud and chaotic, and very much like the home he grew up in, which was probably why he felt so comfortable. He leaned against the door frame, folded his arms, and simply waited for them to finish. Then he was going to give them hell for not locking their doors. Not only was the back door unlocked, but also the side door and the outside door leading to the garage. Damn, he thought, they ought to just put a sign out on the lawn,
VICTIMS INSIDE
.

Oh, yes, they were all going to catch hell no matter how long he had to stand there and wait.

Kiera yawned loudly. “I can’t go,” she said. “Isabel and I can’t take the time. We should have left here yesterday.”

“But we stayed because of you. You just had to go and get yourself blown up again,” Isabel said.

“Are you kidding me? I did not . . .”

Isabel looked at Kiera. “Couldn’t you drop me off at the dorm and backtrack to—”

She stopped when Kiera shook her head. “I don’t have the time. I have to get back. As it is, when we get to Winthrop, I’ll have only enough time to help you find your room and unload the car. Once I get back to my apartment, I’ll be working twenty-four-seven.”

“Do you see, Kate? You’re the only one of us who can go.”

“I’m not going,” she repeated for what she thought had to be the tenth time.

“You’re so stubborn,” Isabel muttered. She nudged Kiera’s foot as she walked past and said, “Make her go.”

Kiera laughed. “How do you suppose I could do that?”

Isabel noticed Dylan in the doorway and turned to him. “How about you? I’ll bet you could make her go.”

“No, he could not,” Kate said emphatically.

“Go where?” Dylan asked once again.

Isabel realized that Dylan didn’t know what they were talking about and hastened to tell him what the letter said and to catch him up on their family history. “We’ve never met any of our father’s side of the family,” she said. “And this is a wonderful opportunity to find out about them, which is why Kate has to go. We don’t even know how many uncles and aunts and cousins there are.”

“Why would I want to have anything to do with any of them? Not one relative even came to Dad’s or Mom’s funeral,” Kate argued.

“Sorry, Isabel, but I’m in Kate’s corner. If she doesn’t want to go, then she shouldn’t go,” Kiera said. “Except—”

Isabel interrupted. “This man . . . this Compton MacKenna . . . maybe he wants to give us something that belonged to our father. If you don’t go, we may never know what he wants to talk to us about.”

Kate ignored Isabel. “Except what?” she asked Kiera.

“None of them wanted anything to do with us . . . until now. Wouldn’t you like to know why? Besides . . . this would be a great opportunity to get some medical history. Certain diseases run in families,” she pointed out. “Don’t look at me that way. There could be heart disease and all sorts of genetic problems we’re unaware of.”

“How about I take one of those forms they make you fill out when you’re a new patient in a doctor’s office? Or maybe you could make up a list of questions for me to ask them. I could even check their teeth and report back if you want me to.”

“I’m serious, Kate. We don’t have any medical knowledge about our father’s side of the family. It would be good to know something, but if you don’t want to go, then don’t.”

“Okay then.”

Isabel was so frustrated with her sisters she threw her hands up and started to walk out of the room. Dylan stopped her.

“Go sit,” he said. “I want to talk to you.” He added, “Especially you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Please think about it, Kate. This could fill in so many holes and answer so many questions about our family,” Kiera reasoned.

Kate let out an acquiescent sigh. “Oh, all right, I’ll go.”

“Good. That’s settled then,” Kiera said. “I’m going to bed.”

“Not just yet,” Dylan interjected. No one was going anywhere until he’d had his say about their total disregard for safety. After looking over their house, he had been tempted to submit it for the “what not to do” section of a home-security manual.

“Did you want something?” Kate asked.

“As a matter of fact I do. I want to give all three of you hell.”

And then he proceeded to do just that.

Chapter Twenty

Dylan called Nate to fill him in on Kate’s plans to drive to Savannah.

“I like the idea of getting her out of Silver Springs,” Dylan told him, “even if it is just for a day or two, especially since it was a spur-of-the-moment decision and very few people know about it, but . . .”

“The letter coming out of the blue.”

“Yes,” Dylan said. “Kate and her sisters have never heard of this relative, so I’ve got to wonder, why now?”

“I’ll check him out and let you know what I find. Make sure you keep me apprised of what you’re doing. I’ll call Chief Drummond to tell him you’ll be by his office first thing in the morning. It’s his jurisdiction, and as for the legal ramifications, you won’t only be on loan from Boston PD, you’ll be under his command.”

“That’s going to be an interesting change. What about the FBI?”

“I’ll let the agent running the show know where you’re going.”

“You don’t know who’s in charge?”

“I’ve narrowed it down to three candidates, but it looks like this guy Kline from the Georgia field office is taking over.”

It was apparent Nate had an attitude toward the FBI. Dylan couldn’t blame him. No detective liked being squeezed out of his own investigation.

Kate sat on the front hall stairs and waited for Dylan to finish his phone call. She was so exhausted she could barely keep her eyes open.

He checked the door locks once again and picked up his garment bag. “What are you doing?” he asked.

She finished yawning before she answered. “Waiting to show you where the guest room is.”

“You look wiped out. Didn’t you get much sleep last night?”

“I was in the hospital last night.”

“Ah, Kate, that’s right. You should be in bed.”

She led him up the stairs to the guest room. It was the first door on the right and directly across from her room. She opened the door and stepped back so he could go inside. “You’ll have your own bathroom. It’s—”

“I’ll find it. Night.”

He shut the door in her face.

She stood there for several seconds staring at the door trying to figure out what had just happened. He hadn’t been rude or angry. In fact, he’d been smiling.

She suddenly felt very foolish. She’d been expecting him to try to kiss her good night, but that apparently was the last thing on his mind.

She went into her room and closed the door. All right then. Her “that was then, this is now” explanation had obviously gotten through to him. And that’s exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? So how come she was feeling so disgruntled? And come to think of it, how come he hadn’t argued at all when she’d told him it was fine and dandy to move on? Not a single word of protest had he uttered.

She couldn’t stop thinking about his behavior while she brushed her teeth and got ready for bed. Women were like fish in the sea, and Dylan was such a playboy he would always have a new catch.

Kate tried to muster up some disgust over his sexual conquests but couldn’t quite manage it. So she tried anger. Dylan was an arrogant jerk. How dare he show up on her doorstep without warning. Who did he think he was? Walking in and taking over like that.

She had to admit, however, she did feel safer with him in the house—and the way he talked to Isabel about safety had made an impact. After he had come down hard on all of them because of their lackadaisical attitude about security, his focus had turned to Kate’s younger sister. When he was finished with her, Isabel knew everything there was to know about dead bolts, and then some. She wouldn’t be walking anywhere on campus without looking over her shoulder or being aware of her surroundings. He had been very candid with her, and yet he hadn’t scared her. Kate had watched as Isabel sat transfixed by Dylan’s calm instructions.

He’d actually been very sweet. He had no business being sweet. How was she ever going to keep this relationship platonic and forget about him when he went back to Boston if he continued to do caring things for her and her sisters?

Why oh why did she go to bed with him? That had been a huge mistake, and then what had she done to top that? She’d given him the “It means nothing to me and I’m sure nothing to you, so move along” speech.

She got into bed and pulled the sheet up. And how had he responded? She was a dream come true. That’s what he’d said all right.

“Great,” she whispered. “I’m a frickin’ dream come true.”

Chapter Twenty-one

Kiera’s plan to be on the highway by seven didn’t quite work out. Isabel was on time; she wasn’t. It was almost eight before they were finally ready to leave. Kate stood by the car for a final good-bye and tried to assure them that everything was going to be fine.

“I hate leaving you with this financial mess,” Kiera said.

“We’ve been over this. We’ve got a plan, right? So stop worrying.”

“You’ll let me know what’s going on? Don’t try to shield me, Kate,” Isabel said.

“I’ll tell you everything,” she promised.

“I’m glad Dylan’s here,” Kiera said. “You’ve had such a hellacious week, and it will be nice for you to have company driving to Savannah.”

Dylan locked the front door and took a seat on the top step of the porch waiting for the good-byes to end so he and Kate could leave. He’d already packed his rental car and was impatient to get going.

Kate said something to her sisters, and they all turned to smile at him.

Dylan looked at his watch, and when he glanced up, he was momentarily struck by the beauty of the three girls facing him.

Though they looked like sisters, there was something unique about each one. He’d already figured out that Isabel was a charmer and a people pleaser. She was about five-five, and her hair was blond with streaks of honey. Her eyes were as big and as round as Kate’s, but the color wasn’t the same. Kate’s were a vivid blue and were stunning framed by her dark chestnut hair. Isabel’s eyes were more of a blue-green, like the ocean. Kiera was taller than the other two, and in the sunlight he could see the streaks of red in her strawberry blond hair. She had freckles on her nose like Kate, but they were on her cheeks, too. She reminded Dylan of a well-scrubbed girl next door who just happened to have a very nice body. She was the most laid-back of the three, and he thought she was also a peacemaker in the family.

Kate was neither a charmer nor a peacemaker. She gave as good as she got, and then some, at least with him, anyway. She stood up to him, and he liked that. He must, he thought, because here he was, back for more.

Kate had a little something extra that drew him to her. On the surface she was one tough cookie. He imagined she was a barracuda when she negotiated a business contract, but there was a vulnerability he could see that pulled at him. She was talented and a smart businesswoman, but he didn’t think she was smart about men. Maybe that was why he had been able to get her into bed so quickly. He knew she regretted their night together, but he sure as certain didn’t. The fact was, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

One thought led to another, and it didn’t take long before he was picturing her naked in his arms. Not a good idea to be daydreaming about that now, he realized.

“Kate, wind it up. We’ve got to get going.”

She ignored him and waited until Kiera had backed out of the driveway before she finally turned away.

She had tears in her eyes, and she knew he’d noticed. He didn’t say anything. He simply walked to the car, opened the passenger door, and waited for her to get in.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something. My purse . . .”

“In the car.”

“What about the overnight bag you made me pack in case we have to stay in Savannah, which by the way is totally unnecessary since we’ll have plenty of time to get back home . . .”

“You mentioned that.”

“I’m sure I left my bag in the foyer.”

“It’s in the trunk. Get in, Pickle.”

She gave him what he had begun to call “the look.” He translated it to mean, “Call me Pickle again and I’ll deck you.”

“What about . . .”

He gave her a little nudge. “The iron’s turned off.”

“I didn’t turn it on . . . did I?”

“Kate, get in the car.”

She stopped arguing. Once she was settled and had clipped her seat belt on, she said, “Why do we have to leave so soon? We have plenty of time.”

“No, we don’t.”

He didn’t explain until they had pulled away from the house. “We need to stop at the police station, and I don’t know how long that’s going to take. Chief Drummond’s waiting.”

She gave him directions. The station was only a mile from her house. The parking lot was in the back of a two-story brick building that looked old and worn. And charming, he thought, if such a word could be used to describe a police station.

Ivy crept up the back of the building nearly to the roof, and the brick path that led to the front door had chunks broken off.

“Is there a jail inside?” he asked.

“I think so, either in the back or upstairs.”

The front door had recently been painted a shiny black. He noticed the white shutters flanking the windows had been painted, too.

He’d never seen anything like it . . . for a police station, that is.

“It looks like a bed-and-breakfast place.”

As soon as he walked inside, though, he felt as if he were back on familiar ground. The floors were an ugly gray linoleum; the walls were a dingy pea green, and the receptionist was just as old and surly as the one back in Boston. The station even smelled the same—must and sweat and Pine-Sol. He loved it.

Chief Drummond came out of his office to meet both of them. He was a heavyset man with a permanent scowl on his face and the grip of a weight lifter in his handshake.

He offered Kate a cup of coffee and asked her to wait in the outer office.

Kate took a seat on one of the gray metal chairs against the wall and pulled her BlackBerry out of her bag to check messages. Haley had called again, probably about the ribbon on back order, she thought. Nothing she could do about it now, so she decided she’d call her from the car.

If she had her briefcase with her, she could go through some of her other notes. Had she left that at home, or had Dylan put it in the trunk?

The chair was hard and uncomfortable. Kate sat back, crossed one leg over the other, and tried to remain patient. What was taking so long? It seemed that Dylan had been in the office for at least fifteen minutes. She noticed the receptionist was repeatedly glancing at her from behind her computer screen.

Kate looked at her skirt to make sure it hadn’t hiked up, then checked her blouse to make certain all the buttons were buttoned.

The woman’s head was hidden behind the computer monitor when she said, “I like your candles.”

“I’m sorry?”

She leaned to the side. “I said, I like your candles.”

“Thank you,” she said. “I’m happy to hear that.”

The receptionist was blushing. “I’m thinking about buying some of your lotion next, but I’m not sure which scent I want. Got any suggestions?”

“Let me see if I have any samples.” Kate dug through her purse and found three. “Try these three,” she said. “They’re all different: Isabel, Kiera, and Leah.”

The woman was thrilled. She introduced herself and shook Kate’s hand. “You know, you’re a celebrity around town.”

“I am?” she asked, smiling. “My candles?”

“Oh, no, dear. They’re lovely, of course, but you’re famous because you nearly blew yourself up at the old warehouse.”

She made it sound like Kate had done it on purpose. Kate was about to respond to the woman’s assessment, but the door opened, and Dylan and the chief walked out of the office. She immediately noticed the gun in a holster at Dylan’s side. He had a box in his hand. Probably extra bullets, she thought. Can’t have enough of those, can he?

“You’re in good hands with this boy, Miss MacKenna. He’s got an impressive record and his superior in Boston was mighty aggravated he was doing a job for Silver Springs. He finally agreed but made sure I knew it was temporary. They want him back,” he added with a nod.

She couldn’t stop looking at the gun. Images of Dylan lying in the hospital bed flashed into her mind. She realized his job required that he carry a gun, and as Drummond had just confirmed, Dylan was very good at that job, but still, just seeing the weapon made her feel queasy. She smiled at the chief and said, “Yes, I am in good hands with this boy.”

Drummond walked them to the door and held it open. In parting he called, “Try not to get yourself blown up again, Miss MacKenna.”

Kate walked ahead of Dylan to the car. “The way people are acting around here you’d think I was some kind of walking detonator—wherever I go there’s an explosion,” she complained.

Dylan laughed. “I think you’ve brought a little more excitement to Silver Springs than they’re used to.”

He pulled the car out of the parking lot but stopped at the corner. “Want to give me directions?”

“The most direct route to get to the highway is to take Main Street, which is your next left, but there will be a lot of traffic this time of morning.”

“Compared to Boston, this is nothing,” he said a few minutes later. “It’s nice not to have to be so aggressive. The noise level is so much lower here. I like that.”

Kate adjusted the air conditioner vent so it wouldn’t blow on her face and tried to relax.

“What did you think of Chief Drummond?”

“Cranky,” he said. “The man is definitely cranky. I don’t think he knows how to smile. The way he was frowning at me when he took me into his office made me think he was going to give me trouble, and even after he started complimenting me on my record, the guy was still frowning. It took me a while to catch on.” He shook his head and added, “He kind of reminds me of my father.”

“Judge Buchanan isn’t cranky. He’s a dear man. He’s always so kind to me.”

“He likes you,” he said.

“Jordan and Sydney still call him Daddy.”

“His sons don’t. We call him ‘sir.’ He was tough with us when we were growing up, but I guess he had to be. Keeping six boys out of trouble couldn’t have been easy.”

Kate was remembering what Judge Buchanan was like in the hospital when he was waiting with his family for Dylan to come out of surgery. The time had dragged on and on, and the anguish in his eyes was heartbreaking to see. He might have been hard-nosed with his sons, but he also loved them fiercely.

“I hate hospitals.”

She hadn’t realized she’d whispered the thought out loud until Dylan said, “I imagine you do.” Responding to the sadness he heard in her voice, he put his hand on top of hers and said, “What made you think about hospitals?”

She didn’t want to talk about it. “I just did,” she said without an explanation.

The highway traffic was light. Dylan set the cruise control and sat back.

“I talked to Nate early this morning,” he said.

“You did?”

“I let him know last night that you were going to Savannah,” he explained, “and I asked him to check out a couple of things.”

She turned toward him. “Yes?”

“Remember, he had already told us that a corporation owns the warehouse that blew, but he was having trouble finding out who the shareholders were. He finally was able to dig through the layers, and guess who has controlling interest.”

“Who?”

“Carl Bertolli.”

She certainly hadn’t expected to hear his name and immediately thought there had to be a mistake. “Carl? Are you sure? He said Carl? That can’t be right.”

“You think Nate made it up?” he asked, smiling.

“No, of course not, but . . . Carl? He never said anything to me . . . why wouldn’t he tell me he owned the warehouse?”

“Obviously because he didn’t want you to know.”

“Did Jennifer know?” she asked. “Surely she did. She’s a Realtor, for heaven’s sake. She’d have to know who the owners were. Did anyone talk to her yet?”

“She and her family are camping, but she’s scheduled to be back at work tomorrow morning. Nate could have tracked her down, but he’d already gotten the names of the shareholders, so he’s waiting until tomorrow to question her. Nate’s guessing Carl instructed her not to tell you.”

Kate couldn’t wrap her mind around any of it. It just didn’t make any sense.

“What would Carl have to gain by blowing up his property? Even if he had the place heavily insured.” Her mind was racing. “He doesn’t need the money. And tell me, please, what would he gain by killing me? No, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“You can bet the FBI is digging into Carl’s financials right now. If there’s a motive, they’ll find it.”

“The FBI won’t find anything.”

“You might be surprised. Everyone has secrets, and Carl could have a couple of big ones.”

She couldn’t accept it. “I’ve got to think about this.”

“I’ll give you something else to think about. Compton Thomas MacKenna was, in fact, your great uncle.”

“Was?”

“That’s right. He died last night, exactly two hours before the letter went out. According to his attorney, Anderson Smith, Compton left specific instructions about the notification of his relatives.”

“Then why—”

“You’re not going to the attorney’s office to meet Compton as the letter implied. You and your sisters have been summoned for the reading of his last will and testament.”

She was shocked by the disappointment she felt. “Then I guess I can’t ask him any questions, can I? You might as well turn around. I’m not interested in anything the man left.”

“Your sisters might be interested.”

“I’ll be happy to give them the attorney’s phone number, and they can talk to him. The next exit is coming up. We can turn around there.”

“Kate, you and your sisters weren’t the only ones to receive letters. Your cousins will also be there. Now are you interested?”

“Just cousins?”

“I can’t answer that. The attorney only mentioned cousins to Nate. Smith also told him that the cousins don’t know you’re coming. Fact is, he was certain they don’t even know you and your sisters exist.”

She was even more disheartened. “I’m definitely not interested, then. Slow down. You’ll miss the exit.”

The exit ramp was a blur as they sped by.

“Dylan, I told you I’m not interested. There isn’t any reason for me to go to the reading now. If these cousins haven’t been told anything about Kiera and Isabel and me, they certainly won’t be able to answer any of my questions, now will they? They were obviously kept in the dark by their parents.”

She thought about it another moment and said, “I know Kiera would like medical history, but—”