by Marta Perry
“I can get a warrant. And I can leave Foster here to keep an eye on you while I do it. Or maybe it’s a setup for cooking meth we’ll find.”
“I’m not dumb enough to try that, honest, I’m not. Anyway, Ax says—” He stopped, and it couldn’t be more obvious that he’d said more than he’d meant if he’d clapped both hands over his mouth.
“Ax? Who’s Ax?” The name, if that’s what it was, raised a question in his mind. Had he heard it before?
“Ax Bolt.” Johnny broke the prohibition on speaking. “He’s been hanging around town off and on. Lowlife. Fake prison tattoos up to his eyebrows.”
Mac suppressed the urge to ask him how he knew they were fake. Television, most likely.
“What about it, Larry?” He leaned in, knowing what he smelled was fear. Larry hadn’t been seriously afraid until that name surfaced. “Is this Ax Bolt dealing?”
“I don’t know anything about him. You can’t—you can’t let him think I said anything. You don’t know him. You can’t...”
Panic overtook Larry, and he squirmed past the two of them, running from the garage.
Johnny started after him, but Mac grabbed his arm.
“I can catch him, Chief. He’ll get away.”
“He’s running into the house,” Mac pointed out. “We don’t have anything on him, and if you want to go in there without a solid case and tell Ethel Foust her darling boy is in trouble, you’re just asking for trouble.”
“He might know where to find this creep.” Johnny’s face, almost as ingenuous as Larry’s, clearly showed his disappointment.
“If he does, he’s too scared to tell us.” Mac headed for the patrol car. “From the sounds of it, Bolt will have gotten into somebody’s records somewhere. Let’s go find out. And in the meantime, you can tell me everything you know about him.”
Mac slid into the car, energized. At last, something concrete to work on. And his satisfaction didn’t have anything at all to do with wanting to prove to Kate that he was doing something.
CHAPTER TEN
IT ONLY TOOK moments to tidy the small cottage kitchen after Kate had had breakfast the next morning. She was supposed to work for a couple of hours this morning, which would give her plenty of time afterward to pursue the most pressing of her preoccupations—investigating the financial group.
The only question was, how? A couple of possibilities had come to mind. Talk to Nikki again, prepared with questions this time. And get in touch with Morris Vail, the financial reporter at her last job. Morris had information about investment markets at his fingertips, and if he didn’t know anything about Laurel Ridge Financial specifically, he’d know where to find it.
The other possibility was to approach Lina Oberlin. She, at least, seemed kindly disposed toward Kate. Maybe she’d open up about what happened that last day.
The only other hope was that Mac had had a successful encounter with Larry Foust. And if he had, would he be inclined to share with her, given the heated words they’d exchanged yesterday?
Thinking about that quarrel roused mixed feelings in Kate. She was sorry if she’d caused Russell Sheldon pain. But surely just the fact that he’d become so upset meant that he knew something—if not about why Jason had taken his life, then about what had happened at the office that last day.
She’d called Sheila this morning to check on Mr. Sheldon’s condition. Sheila had been cautious at first, but when she realized Kate wasn’t trying to pump her, she loosened up.
Apparently he’d recovered fairly quickly, but Sheila said he’d been a little withdrawn the rest of the day. She seemed to think something was troubling him, and Kate would give a lot to know just what that something was.
Mac’s anger had probably been justifiable in his own eyes. He was trying to protect people he cared about.
If he did refuse to cooperate with her—well, it just showed that she’d been right all along.
Leaving the cottage, she locked it carefully, double-checking to be sure. She crossed the grass, heading to the shortcut between the two properties that Mrs. Anderson had pointed out the previous day. A grassy path led through a gap in the hedge and came out onto the driveway at the side of the building.
Lina first. Then after she finished up at the bookshop, she might try to call Morris. If there was anything to be found about the financial group, he’d find it.
She stepped into the narrow pathway between the hedges. Before she’d gone more than a few feet, a shadow filled the patch of sunlight at the other end. Bart Gordon was coming toward her, and something in his purposeful stride told her this wasn’t an accidental meeting.
Her jaw set, and she went forward to meet him. If Gordon thought he could intimidate her, he was dead wrong.
Gordon stopped a couple of feet from her, his bulldog face set in a way that probably frightened his subordinates. Certainly he was the sort to bulldoze his way through life, running over anyone he considered beneath him.
Kate waited, eyebrows slightly raised, knowing that silence could sometimes be the more effective of weapons.
Sure enough, her failure to speak first seemed to throw him off stride for a moment, but he made a quick recovery. “You harassed a sick old man. People can’t get away with things like that in Laurel Ridge.”
No point in pretending to misunderstand him. “If you mean I talked with Mr. Sheldon about my brother, I did it in the company of the police chief and Sheldon’s caregiver. I don’t think that constitutes harassment.”
“We’ll see what a lawyer thinks about that,” Gordon snapped, face reddening as he glared at her. “I’ve already advised Sheldon’s son to file a complaint against you. We’ve had about enough of this witch hunt of yours.”
She raised an eyebrow, a look calculated to annoy. “Who is ‘we’?”
That didn’t sidetrack him. “Laurel Ridge Financial Group, to say nothing of Russell Sheldon’s many friends. He’s done a lot for this town, and he deserves better than to be bothered and upset by you over something he knows nothing about.”
She pounced on that. “Nothing about what? According to you, my brother’s job had nothing to do with his death. But you fired him that day. How do you know it had nothing to do with what happened to him?”
“It wasn’t our responsibility if he was so unstable he turned to drugs because he failed at his job.”
That had the bite of truth in it, but it wasn’t the whole story. “What did Jason do wrong? Why did you fire him?”
“I don’t owe you any explanations. His work wasn’t satisfactory. That’s all.” He clamped his mouth shut.
“What about Mr. Sheldon telling me Jason wasn’t to blame? Wasn’t to blame for what?” It was her turn to glare. “What was it? What did you accuse Jason of?”
If it was possible for the man to get any redder, he did. He took a step toward Kate, and she was suddenly aware of how isolated they were. The street wasn’t more than thirty yards away, but they might as well have been in one of Baltimore’s dark alleys for how alone she felt.
“There was nothing. Your brother was a druggie who found life too much for him and tried to escape. You shouldn’t have pushed him into coming here to begin with. You should have known he was too weak to stand on his own.”
Here was a counterattack with a vengeance, hitting too close to home, but she wasn’t about to let him see he’d scored. “Jason wasn’t weak. Something forced him into what happened. If it was you...”
“This a private quarrel, or can anyone join in?”
The quiet, casual voice from behind her was a marked contrast to their heated tones. Mac seemed to have a genius for turning up at moments like this.
Gordon got in first. “You allowed this woman to harass Russell Sheldon. What were you thinking? Russell’s a respected citizen of this town.”
> “I don’t think Russ came to any harm.” The distaste in Mac’s voice came through to Kate. He hated having to defend her, especially on this subject. “Ms. Beaumont has some questions about her brother’s death. She deserves a few straight answers.”
“She’s had all the answers she’s going to get from me.” Gordon transferred his anger to Mac. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll make sure she leaves town and doesn’t come back.” He turned and barreled away, apparently considering he’d had the last word.
Kate took a cautious look at Mac’s face, wondering if it was safe to speak. She didn’t think so.
He grabbed her arm. “Come on.” He headed back toward the cottage, tugging her along.
“Where are we going? I have to go to work,” she protested.
“I told Emily you’d be a little late today. We have to talk.” He propelled her toward the cottage.
“Not there.” She didn’t think she’d risk another private chat in the tiny cottage when emotions were at such a pitch.
She could tell by his expression that he knew why not. His jaw tightened even more, and he tugged her over to the police car. Opening the front door on the passenger side, he gestured for her to get in.
Kate slid inside. “Am I under arrest?”
“If you were, you’d be in the backseat,” he snapped and shut the door.
By the time Mac had rounded the car and gotten behind the wheel, he seemed to have his feelings under control. He started the vehicle, drove out to the street, and glided into a parking space in front of Blackburn House.
“There. We can be seen by anyone passing by, and I won’t be tempted to make love to you in full view of half a dozen residents. Satisfied?”
She rejected several comments and finally just nodded. Mac might not want to agree with Bart Gordon, but he also didn’t want to defend her. She suspected she was about to hear about that little fact.
* * *
MAC DISCOVERED HE was angry with Kate, Bart Gordon and himself in about equal measure. He didn’t like being off balance, and it struck him that since Kate’s arrival in Laurel Ridge, he seemed to be in one of those amusement park rides that turned you upside down and spun you around until you didn’t know which way was up.
“So you don’t mind being alone with Bart in a secluded spot, is that it?” It wasn’t how he’d intended to phrase the question, and it annoyed him doubly to find he’d made it sound personal.
“It wasn’t exactly my idea.” Kate responded mildly enough. “I was just taking the shortcut to Blackburn House when he waylaid me.”
Mac shot a quick look at her face. “You mean deliberately?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know what the odds are of him being there at the same time I was, but I’d suspect astronomical.”
He had to agree. “What did he want?”
“About what you’d expect.” Kate grimaced. “He’d apparently heard all about our visit to Mr. Sheldon yesterday. I take it that wasn’t from you?”
“No. I didn’t go around broadcasting that fact.” He shrugged restlessly. “But word gets around. Did Gordon say anything useful or just shout at you?”
“Mostly the latter. But I did get a reaction from him when I tried to find out why Jason was fired.”
Mac turned in his seat to face her more fully. “When Bart admitted to me that he’d had to let Jason go, he said it was because his work hadn’t been satisfactory.” He felt his jaw harden. “If there was more to it, I need to find out what.”
“Finally something we agree on,” Kate said.
He forced a smile despite the tangle of worry in his mind. “Here’s something else we’d better agree on. You don’t seek out any more encounters with either of the partners until I’ve had a chance to get to the bottom of this.”
“I didn’t seek out this encounter,” Kate protested.
“I believe you.” But that didn’t help the concern he had for her. “See that you don’t go wandering along any lonely roads or poking in dark corners, though.”
Her lips tilted slightly, and her wary mask disappeared. “And here I thought small towns were law-abiding places.”
“Don’t kid yourself,” he retorted. “We have the same problems big cities do these days, and only me to deal with it in Laurel Ridge.”
She looked surprised. “But you have a staff.”
“A staff.” He had a pitying look for her lack of understanding for small-town finances. “One patrolman and three part-timers who mainly direct traffic.”
“If there’s a drug problem...”
“That’s not enough to deal with it,” he finished for her. “You’re so right. There’s a state police task force, but they can’t be everywhere. And in the meantime, lives are being ruined.”
“I’m sorry.” She reached out a tentative hand toward him and then drew it back, making him too aware of how close they were in the confines of the front seat. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea, after all. Even the curious gazes of passersby didn’t seem to deter him. “It’s hard to feel so helpless.”
Mac studied her face, seeing a depth of feeling in her eyes, and he knew they understood each other. He propped his elbow on the console, his arm brushing hers.
“On that front, at least, I might have made some progress.” He put some energy into his tone. “I had a little semi-official chat with Larry Foust.”
Kate’s head came up. “What did you find out? Did you get him to talk?”
He had a wry smile for that. “He babbled, but not about anything very useful.” He hesitated, not sure how wise it was to tell her more. But she’d been open with him, as far as he could tell.
Kate seemed to put her own interpretation on his hesitation. “Still angry with me about yesterday?”
“Cops can’t afford anger. It clouds the judgment.” He took a breath and made his decision. “Larry let a name drop...one we could find in police files. Apparently this guy has been on the fringes of the drug scene for a while now. A couple of departments in this part of the state have been keeping an eye on him.”
“He’s been here in Laurel Ridge?”
Mac frowned. “Not permanently, but showing up every so often over the last couple of years, from what we’ve found out. Needless to say, we’re looking for him.”
In her eagerness, Kate leaned toward him. “Are you going to tell me his name?”
He studied her face, reading the passion in her eyes, and dismissed the stray thought that having that passion directed toward him might be overwhelming. “Only if I have your word that you won’t go looking for him on your own. Tap any newspaper resources you like, but no personal encounters. Right?”
“I’m not afraid.”
“You should be.” His careful control slipped a little. “This Ax Bolt is no Larry Foust. He’s got a record and a reputation for violence.”
“Ax?” She raised an eyebrow in doubt.
“Right.” His lips twisted. “Apparently Andrew Xavier Bolton wasn’t a sufficiently intimidating name for him. But don’t let that mislead you. He’s been convicted of breaking and entering twice and been charged with assault three times but not convicted.”
“A small-time pusher...” she began.
Frustrated, Mac grabbed her wrist. “Maybe not so small-time. Kate, the assaults were ugly. Vicious. And the only reason he wasn’t sent up was that the victims refused to testify. If I find you’ve gone anywhere near him, so help me, I’ll lock you up.”
“You wouldn’t.” She tried to pull her wrist free, but he didn’t let go. He felt her pulse pounding against his palm.
“I’ll do what’s necessary to keep you safe.” His voice went unexpectedly husky on the words.
Kate’s eyes widened. Darkened. And her breath caught with a sound he could hear. The pulse
that beat against his palm seemed to be driving his own, as well. The very air grew thick around them, and his gaze was drawn irresistibly to her parted lips.
He managed to wrench his hand away from her wrist and leaned back against the door, his breath coming too quickly.
It seemed even the precaution of parking in full view of the town wasn’t enough to block out the attraction that pulsed between them. He wasn’t sure what would be.
* * *
KATE GLANCED AT her watch and then took a last look at herself in the mirror to be sure she was suitable for supper with the Whiting family. This had to be the worst possible time to be going to supper with Mac’s family.
After those charged moments in the police car this morning, she’d managed to beat a hasty retreat, muttering something about the need to get to work and fleeing. Mac hadn’t made any attempt to delay her.
Neither of them could possibly deny the power of the attraction that had flared between them. But they could decide not to act on it, couldn’t they?
Kate grabbed her bag and headed for the car, locking the door behind her. She hadn’t had any difficulty in putting emotions on hold in the past—at first because she’d been so preoccupied with taking care of Jason and more recently because grief seemed to have left her emotionally numb.
Even Casey, her closest friend in Baltimore and an inveterate matchmaker, had finally stopped trying to fix her up with someone. She’d declared that until Kate got over being so prickly and guarded and started giving out some signals that she was interested, it was hopeless.
Well, she hadn’t deliberately sent out any signals to Mac, and she suspected he’d say the same. And look what had happened—they’d still been ambushed by desire.
As she followed the directions Ellen had given her out of town, Kate tried to console herself that at least Mac was in the same boat she was. He hadn’t intended to feel anything, either, and might even now be getting out of the prospect of having dinner with her and his family. Apparently he didn’t live at his parents’ farm, and he could always plead the need to work, unlike her. And if he were there, she’d been warned now. She could certainly keep her guard up.
