by Marta Perry
Kate watched the movement of his fingers, frowning slightly. Was she as aware of the sensations when they touched as he was? If so, she seemed determined to show no signs of it. But when he’d finished, she looked relieved, as well as pale and tired.
He reminded himself that he was going to get straight answers from her. “So you went to the Lamplight tonight looking for Larry Foust. What made you think he’d be there?”
“Nikki said it was a popular hangout.” She paused.
“Don’t bother stopping there. I’m not leaving until I hear the whole story.”
“All right,” she snapped, but it was an echo of her usual force. “I had lunch there today with Nikki. I wanted to talk to her about what she remembered about Jason’s...about the last few days he was at the office. And we went to the Lamplight because she didn’t want to be seen by her bosses.”
“Go on.” He thought she was telling the truth, but not necessarily all of it.
“Well, we talked. And I asked her about any other friends Jason made or people he knew.” An expression of exasperation crossed her face. “That girl has the concentration of a butterfly. But she did come up with Foust’s name. And the bartender heard us talking. He said Larry Foust had come in late the previous night with a couple of guys he didn’t want in the place. He wouldn’t say why.”
“That was Pete, I suppose. He manages the Lamplight for the owner. If he didn’t want people in there, it was because they were troublemakers of some variety. But that still doesn’t explain why you went there tonight.”
“I had a call saying Larry Foust was there.” She frowned. “I thought it was Pete, but it turned out he wasn’t even working tonight. And Foust wasn’t there. I’d almost think it was a practical joke, except who else could have known I wanted to talk to Larry? And...” She stopped abruptly.
“And somebody almost ran you down,” he finished for her.
His anger rose again—anger that she’d broken her word to him, anger that she could have been badly hurt.
Kate nodded, not meeting his gaze.
He resisted the urge to grab her and force her to look at him. “What happened to letting me in on what you were doing?”
“I never agreed to tell you every little thing I do,” she said, flaring. “Anyway, if you’d been with me, it would have been hopeless trying to get anything from Foust.”
“You didn’t get anything, anyway. Except a bad scare and a painful set of scrapes,” he pointed out. “Do you want me to have to follow you around town?”
She glared at him. “I could charge you with harassment.”
“You could. And I could tell everyone in town what you’re doing.” He let her mull that over for a moment and then leaned closer. “Listen to me. I’m still willing to cooperate with you, but no more Lone Ranger stuff. Now, tell me what happened with the car.”
After a long look, Kate nodded. “You’ve heard how we went outside. Mike claimed he’d seen Larry leaving, but it was just an excuse.” She shrugged. “He took it pretty well when I sent him back to his buddy. And he seemed sure Foust hadn’t been in at all, so I decided not to waste any more time on a wild-goose chase. I was going to my car when a vehicle came roaring around from the end of the lot, headed straight for me. I had to dive out of the way. That’s how I got this.” She gestured, palms up.
He was frowning, trying to picture it. “Could have been somebody who’d had one too many and didn’t notice you, then ran when they realized what they’d done.”
“Could have been,” she said. “Except that while I was on the ground, the car reversed and came at me again.”
Everything in him stilled, trying to make sense of it. Things like this didn’t happen in his town. Except that Kate’s pallor was very convincing.
“If he was trying to hit you, why didn’t he? If you were on the ground, you were a sitting duck.”
“I had my keys out. I hit the panic button, and my car alarm went off. And I think I yelled. He must have thought he’d be caught. He roared off just when somebody looked out.”
Mac didn’t want to believe it, but somehow he did. “Did you get a glimpse of the vehicle at all?”
“I was too busy trying not to get hit. I think it was either a pickup or an SUV—the lights seemed higher than a car, anyway.”
“That narrows it down to about three-quarters of the population,” he muttered. “If it was Foust...” He shook his head. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“It doesn’t make sense no matter who it was. But somebody apparently doesn’t like my being here.”
He studied her face, not sure how much of this he was buying, and yet swayed by the fact that she obviously believed it. “There has to be some other explanation. Maybe the driver was backing up out of panic, thinking he’d hit someone. Maybe he was too drunk to know what he was doing.”
Kate didn’t respond, and she clearly didn’t believe it.
“Look, on the outside chance that you’re right, the best thing you can do is get out of Laurel Ridge. Go home, and leave this business to me.”
She was already shaking her head. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He wasn’t really surprised. He leaned toward her, grasping her wrists with both hands, careful not to touch her palms. He could feel her pulse pounding against his hands.
He forced himself to ignore the sensation. Concentrate on the job at hand.
“Then you’re going to tell me everything you’re up to, everything you suspect,” he said firmly. “And you’re not doing any more investigating on your own, or so help me, I’ll lock you up. That’s a promise.”
* * *
KATE RECONSIDERED THAT confrontation with Mac the next morning as she walked into Blackburn House. It hadn’t been as bad as she’d expected. She grudgingly admitted Mac had every reason to be angry with her, but he’d been almost mild.
He’d probably felt sorry for her at the moment. That didn’t mean further questioning wasn’t coming. Still, she could do some pushing of her own. She wanted a talk with Russ Sheldon, and she meant to have it, no matter what she had to do.
The sunlight streamed through the windows on the door, laying patterns on the marble hall floor. Kate hadn’t gotten more than a few steps inside the building before a woman in Amish garb emerged from the quilt shop, headed right for her.
“You’ll be Kate Beaumont, ain’t so?” The woman’s smile brought beauty to a face that at first Kate had considered plain. “I’m Sarah Bitler. I have the quilt shop.” She gestured toward the store window, filled with a colorful display of fabrics and one orange cat which stared at Kate unblinkingly.
Apparently most of the town knew who she was by now. “It’s nice to meet you, Ms. Bitler. Your shop looks very intriguing.”
“Sarah, please. You’re working in the bookshop, so we’re almost neighbors.” Her blue eyes darkened in concern. “But we’ve heard about your accident. Should you be working today? Allison or I could help Emily if needed.”
“We’d be glad to.” Another woman had come out of the store while they’d been talking. She was the opposite of Sarah in appearance, with dark red hair stylishly cut and a silky teal top worn over expensive-looking slacks. “I’m Allison Standish, Sarah’s partner. I’m sure Emily doesn’t expect you in today.”
Kate gave her a blank look. “But she told me to work this morning.”
“She’ll have changed her mind after she heard.” Allison smiled. “Obviously you’re not used to the small-town grapevine. Neither was I, when I first came to Laurel Ridge. Word spreads as if by magic, especially about something as dramatic as a newcomer being knocked down by a car.”
“I wasn’t really knocked down,” she began, and then wondered why she was explaining to these strangers. “Thanks for your concern, but I’m fine.”
“You’ll let us
know if you need a break, now.” Sarah’s worry seemed genuine. “We never mind looking after each other’s businesses here in Blackburn House.”
“Thank you.” She beat a hasty retreat toward the bookshop, wondering how far the story of last night’s adventure had spread. It had never occurred to her that anyone would think it worth repeating. Would it make her task more difficult? Nikki might well be regretting her cooperation if gossip linked them together.
The sympathy she’d received from two complete strangers prepared Kate somewhat for Emily’s fluttering over her. First, she insisted Kate go home and rest, and when Kate declined, Emily insisted she’d put off the errands she’d planned to run this morning until another day.
Kate finally persuaded her to go ahead with her plans, and with her departure, the bookshop settled down to a somnolent late morning. Blackburn House in general seemed deserted, making her wonder how people stayed in business with so little foot traffic.
She was dusting shelves when she heard the door and turned to welcome a customer at last. But it was Mac Whiting, and she doubted that he’d come to buy a book.
“I thought you’d be at the cottage resting this morning,” he said, frowning as he approached her. “Surely Emily can get along without you for a few hours.”
All this concern was starting to grate. Did they think she was as feeble as all that? “I’m perfectly all right. A few scrapes won’t keep me from doing my job.”
“Let’s have a look.” Before she could stop him, Mac had her hand. “Seems all right. But you’ve probably got a few bruises elsewhere from hitting the gravel.”
She snatched her hand away. “My bruises aren’t any of your business.”
Mac rested an elbow against the nearest shelf, his face relaxing in a smile. “Your injuries might be important if we catch up with the driver. Maybe I ought to have a few photos.”
“Dream on,” she scoffed, not appreciating the effect his smile had on her. “If you don’t have anything more important to say, I’d like to get on with my work while Emily is out.”
“The dusting can wait.” He glanced around. “This seems as private as anyplace. So let’s get a few things straight about Larry Foust. Does your brother mention him in the video diary?”
“I’m not sure.” She straightened a row of paperbacks. “You saw what it was like. There are a few mentions of someone who might be him, but nothing that indicated he was a source of drugs, if that’s what you’re after.”
“His name didn’t come up at all in the initial investigation. Odd, if they were friends. Still, a talk with Larry is needed.”
“Not by you,” she said immediately.
Mac resumed his impassive cop’s expression. “This is police business.”
She resisted the temptation to point out that he wouldn’t even know about Foust if not for her. “If you talk to him, he’ll be on his guard, right?”
He shrugged. “Past experience tells me he’ll give me a few smart-ass answers. But if I lean on him...”
“Then he’ll never say a word about Jason. Look, doesn’t it make more sense for me to approach him? I can just say that I wanted to meet him because he was a friend of my brother’s. Chances are he’ll talk to me.”
“Aren’t you forgetting your experience last night?” Mac raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were convinced it was an attempt to scare you away because you were looking for Larry.”
Mac was annoying with that way he had of using her own words against her. “I don’t know that’s what was behind it, at all. Maybe it really was an accident, like Jason’s death. Look, if Larry was Jason’s friend, he may have some insight into what made him turn back to drugs. And if he supplied them, then I want him to pay.”
“That phone call doesn’t make much sense unless you assume the incident wasn’t an accident.” He was frowning as he pieced it together.
“Or maybe someone else has reason to want me to leave.” She studied his face to see how he’d react to that. “Seems to me you’re a member of that party, right?”
She’d succeeded in nettling him. She could tell by the look he gave her.
“I think you should leave because, on the very slim chance you’re right about last night, you could be in danger. If you start poking around Larry Foust, you’d make things worse.”
“That’s my responsibility, isn’t it? Anyway, you have to admit that he’s more likely to talk to me than to you, at least where Jason is concerned, which is all I’m concerned with.”
Mac obviously didn’t want to admit any such thing, but finally he gave a reluctant nod. “Only if I have your word you’ll let me know when and where you’re meeting him. That way I’ll know where to pick up the pieces.”
She smiled with relief at her success. “You’re forgetting my self-defense skills.”
“They didn’t help you much with that car last night,” he snapped.
“Wrong.” She couldn’t help a little smugness in her reply. “Dive and roll. My stepfather had us practicing that in the backyard until it was second nature.” She grimaced, glancing at her hands. “The grass was considerably softer than gravel, though.”
“You’re determined to have the last word, aren’t you?”
She didn’t bother answering what was obviously a rhetorical question. And just as obviously, Mac wasn’t done yet.
“What else did you get from Nikki? Anything useful?”
She’d equivocate, but he looked ready to stand there propping up the bookshelf all day if necessary.
“Nikki said everything at the office seemed to be going fine until that last day. Did you know they’d fired Jason?”
He nodded. “Bart finally came out with that when I pressed him. He kept insisting everything was fine. Didn’t want to be blamed, I’m sure.”
“You didn’t tell me you spoke to Bart.” A thought occurred to her. Had her stepfather known about Jason being fired? Could Tom’s reaction have pushed Jason back into drug use? No one in Laurel Ridge would have the answer to that.
And, she and Tom hadn’t had much of anything to say to each other by then. Jason had been their only meeting point, and when he was gone, neither of them had tried.
Mac looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I suppose, at the time, Bart thought it best. He was never very clear about why they’d let him go. He just kept insisting that Jason’s work wasn’t acceptable.”
“Then why did they keep him so long?” She shook her head. “It doesn’t add up. From what Nikki said, there was a big blowup that last day. She said Russell Sheldon looked devastated. And that he never came back to the office after Jason’s death. That has to mean something.”
“Not necessarily. Russ is a tenderhearted guy. It may have been the incident that pushed him over the top toward retiring.” But Mac didn’t sound as confident as he might have, and she was quick to push the advantage.
“Nikki thought it was strange. And as far as I could tell, so did Emily. She said Sheldon sometimes talked about retiring, but never seriously. She implied that the business was his life.”
“I suppose it was.” Mac frowned, and she could see that her words had made an impression. “Still, the truth is that he’s been going downhill ever since he retired, and probably before that. You can’t tell what a person like Russ Sheldon might do if he felt his mental powers failing him.”
“Did you talk to him at the time of Jason’s death?”
His frown deepened, his firm lips pressing together. “No.”
“Didn’t you think it might be important to speak to him?” If that sounded critical, it was meant that way.
“He was extremely upset about your brother’s death. Bart said it would be dangerous to question him.” He glared at her. “And, no, I didn’t take his word for it. I spoke to Russ Sheldon’s doctor, and he was clearly worried abo
ut the man. In his opinion, it could be harmful. Frankly, there didn’t seem to be anything he could tell me that I hadn’t already heard from Bart and Lina.”
“Like Jason being fired? I’d very much like to talk to Russell Sheldon.”
He studied her face, seeming to consider her determination. Finally he lifted an eyebrow questioningly. “I already gave in about Foust. You think you could let me have this one?”
Something that had been stretched to intensity in her began to relax. He wasn’t going to prevent her.
“I promise to be tactful. I’d just like to hear for myself what he has to say about Jason. Surely after all this time, it wouldn’t upset him to talk about it.”
“I’m not so sure that your idea of tactful is the same as mine, but I’ll set it up.” He seemed to regret having conceded that. “But remember, if I think he’s getting too upset, I’ll call a halt and you don’t argue.”
“If I went by myself...”
“No.” The firmness of the word said Mac wasn’t to be moved. “We do this together or not at all.”
Once again, he’d left her without a choice. Still, she was getting what she wanted, wasn’t she?
“Fine. We’ll do it together.”
Mac should have looked relieved at her capitulation. Instead, he just looked stressed.
CHAPTER EIGHT
KATE PULLED A box of records off the top shelf in the back room of the bookshop, stirring up a cloud of dust. She sneezed, nearly losing her perch on the rickety step stool. Emily said it had been a long time since this area had been cleaned, and she’d been right.
Despite the dust, it was somehow relaxing to work in silence, even at something as mundane as dusting. Emily must be with a customer—Kate could hear the birdlike chirping of her voice. Odd, how quickly she and Emily had settled into a routine. There was nothing challenging about the work, but it allowed her imagination time to play with the article she was writing for an online magazine.
