I didn’t love going in the back like a servant, but I understood the need for discretion. I knocked at the plain wooden door.
The woman who answered was petite, with gray hair and a bright smile.
“Ms. Vaughan, welcome. Come right in please.”
I stepped into a kitchen that smelled a little like heaven should. I couldn’t suppress an appreciative sigh, and the woman grinned.
“Like that, do you? My famous muffins. I’ll send some up with your tea.” She led me to a doorway on the far side of the kitchen and pointed up a set of stairs. “Go up these steps, and then follow the hallway to the very end. Mr. Massler is in his study waiting for you.”
I followed her directions and within a few moments, I stood in the doorway of the study, my heart thumping in anticipation. Nick Massler sat at a large oak desk in the corner of the room, head bent over papers. I cleared my throat and knocked on the side of the door.
“Ms. Vaughan.” There was a great deal of irony in his voice. “Nice to see you again. We meet under the most unusual circumstances, don’t we?”
I bit my lip, looking into the face of the man I had despised since I’d known his daughter’s story. His skin was drawn, and his eyes were bleak.
“Come in.” He rose from his seat and walked around the desk to gesture me inside. “Close the doors behind you, please?”
I turned and drew them shut. The room was dimly lit, with wooden louvered shutters closed against the sun. I noted that while Harper Creek had echoes of a more northern home, transplanted in new soil, the Massler estate was purely southern.
Nick leaned against his desk as I came further into the room. He was watching me with great caution, and I realized that he was working to keep his mind shut off from mine. A sardonic smile twisted my mouth.
“Afraid I might hear something incriminating?” I inquired.
“Thoughts are unreliable things,” he responded. “They’re easily misinterpreted. Well, now, of all the people in the world, imagine how surprised I was when Harley Watson told me who would be working on my case. It really is a small world, isn’t it?”
“And getting smaller all the time.” I looked around the study. Bookcases lined two of the walls, and shuttered doors made up a third. It was comfortable and masculine. A table against the back of a small love seat in the center of the room held framed photographs, and I wandered over to look at them. There were children in several, but I didn’t recognize any of them as Nell.
“No, I’ve no pictures of her here. It was what she wanted. No part of this house or this family.” He sighed and took a seat in one of the wing back chairs that flanked the loveseat. “Please, Tasmyn, come join me. Sit down.”
I did as he requested, perching on the edge of the opposite chair. “You haven’t been to see her.” It was a statement, not a question.
“No, but you have. Thank you. I appreciate that, and I have to believe that somewhere deep inside, Nell knows it and is grateful. She wouldn’t be happy for me to visit. She never was.”
I gritted my teeth. “But you sent her mother away and then you left her. How else could she feel?”
Nick shook his head. “Tasmyn, you don’t have the whole story. I didn’t want to leave Nell in King. Believe me, after what I went through with Alyse, it was the last place I would want my child raised.”
“That’s just it though—she was a child. She might not have liked it at first, but eventually, here with you and your family—she would have grown up and understood you loved her enough to do what was best for her.” I heard my own words and my heart sunk. “But you didn’t, did you? It was far more convenient to leave her in King. Out of sight, out of mind.”
Nick’s mouth twisted, and I felt his anger. “You really don’t know anything about this, and it isn’t any of your business. But if you must know, Alyse’s family threatened to fight me for custody of Nell. They didn’t want her taken away from King. At that point, after what had happened...I couldn’t stomach any more of it. So, all right, yes. I left her there. I went back enough to make it look good, but for all intents and purposes, I was living here. And Nell was raised by the same twisted women who made her mother into the nut job she was. You don’t think I live with that guilt every day? I do. So now I leave Nell to her own peace, in her own world. Trust me. It’s much better for her.”
I was silent, trying to determine how much truth was in his words and how much was put on pathos, his attempt to get my sympathy. Finally, I just nodded.
“I think we’re going to have to agree to disagree on that. It doesn’t have anything to do with why I’m here. But you know, I do have some questions.”
Nick spread his hands wide. “Ask away. I’m an open book.”
I barely resisted rolling my eyes. “Did you kill Helene Gamble?”
He winced as though I’d struck him and then set his mouth in a hard line. “No. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”
“Then why did you bring in Carruthers? Why not just wait until they find the killer?”
“Because real innocence and guilt sometimes have very little to do with perception in this world. Even though I didn’t hurt Helene, her death could easily sully my name. Again. After all, I had nothing to do with Alyse’s crimes and I still paid for them, didn’t I?”
This time I couldn’t hold back, and I did roll my eyes. “So, damage control. It’s too bad Helene is dead, but you can’t let it hurt your precious name again, is that it?”
Nick’s temper was barely in check. “I’m glad Carruthers sent someone who is on my side, who is paid to help me get through this. To give me the information I need. So glad.”
“I’m doing my job, Mr. Massler. But I need to ask you a few more things.”
He tilted his head in acquiescence.
“Did you know that Ben Ryan had planted Helene in your life?”
Like lightening, Nick was on his feet and not only was his mind no longer blocked, the rage and betrayal was pouring over me.
“What are you talking about?” he demanded.
I licked my lips and took a deep breath. “I heard Ben thinking about it.”
“It’s not true.” He was seething, even as he struggled to regain control. “Helene was not working for John. She couldn’t have been.”
As much as I disliked this man, I felt horrible that I had dropped this information on him. There was no doubt in my mind that he hadn’t known. And that led me to my next question.
“Helene was killed in an apartment you own.” He nodded, a sharp jerk of the head. “Did you invite her to meet you there the night she was killed?”
“No. I wasn’t supposed to see her that night. I had a charity function, and she knew that.”
I frowned. “She did? You’re sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure. You don’t think I’ve gone over every detail of that day, of that night? Of my last conversation with her? We had been out three nights in a row that week. She was tired, she wanted to stay in. I told her to rest up, order dinner in and I’d talk to her in the morning.”
This definitely didn’t jive with what Ben had said. And as far as I could tell, Nick was telling the truth.
But why would Ben have been thinking what he did? It hadn’t felt like a set up, and I couldn’t imagine how he might know about my mind hearing.
“It had to have been John. He was desperate. He doesn’t want me in this senate race. You have no idea what he’s capable of doing.” His mouth tightened.
“Oh, I think I might have a clue,” I said.
Nick raised one eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
“Are you talking about what happened in King? With Alyse?”
His eyes widened. “He told you? Or you heard it?”
“I heard his guilt, and he told me the story. I think he might have been a little relieved to share it with someone. Have you known all along?”
Nick raised one shoulder. “Almost. Alyse babbled about it when they first let me visit in the hospital. I thou
ght it was part of her delusion, but then the more I thought about it, the less unlikely and outrageous it seemed. And then I asked Derrick about it—Derrick was the man my wife wanted—which was a little awkward of course, but he finally admitted that yes, John had helped set up some of their meetings.”
“Is that why you stopped being friends?”
His mouth twisted sardonically. “It is not easy to remain friendly with the man who encourages your wife to sleep with another man. Oh, and then who takes away all the rest of your dreams, too.”
“Politics?”
“It had always been my plan.” He dropped his head into his hands. “And it’s gone, and over. I thought it might be coming back. I thought I might have another shot, with the senate race and Helene. But he took those away, too, didn’t he?”
“You really think the congressman set up Helene’s murder?” I just couldn’t fathom it. He hadn’t sounded any guiltier than Nick did now. “I asked him. He denied it.”
“Of course he did. I’m telling you, he knew I was about to enter the race. He knew I had a real shot at winning. And John Remington would do anything to stop me from taking that senate seat away from him.”
“I don’t think he’s capable--”
“Don’t let him fool you, Tasmyn.” Nick’s voice was harsh. “John might have sold you his Southern gentleman persona, but it’s a fraud. He tore away my wife and my family. Why do you think he did that?”
“He thought he was just going to give you a push, to get back here and back into politics. He didn’t know that Alyse was pretty much insane, and he never thought it would go so far.”
“He lied to you. Before he introduced Alsyse to Derrick, I had told him that I was moving out of King, that I was going to enter the state senate race. I had my backers, I had almost convinced Alyse that living part of the year away from King would not mean the world was ending. We had begun entertaining a little, making connections.
“And then he tore it all apart. So don’t tell me what John Remington isn’t capable of doing. I’m telling you, he’s behind this. He saw me with Helene a week before she was killed. We ran into each other at some benefit. I saw him look at her, and I knew. He couldn’t bear to see me win. He never could.”
I drove away from the Massler estate, more confused and discouraged than before. The deeper I fell into this mess, the less I understood. It was sad and painful and ugly.
I called Cathryn and let her know that I had escaped from Nick Massler without injury.
“He didn’t do it, Cathryn. I don’t know who did. Every time I think I have a hold on it, someone else convinces me of his innocence.”
Cathryn let out a breath, and I heard relief. “You’re sure?”
I grunted in frustration. “No. Didn’t you just hear me? I’m not sure. But at this point, I don’t see how or why he would have killed Helene. Nick is sure John did it. Ben is sure Nick did it.”
“Who does John think killed Helene?”
I considered. “I don’t think he ever said. He was so horrified that I would think he might have done it...and then he started telling me about something else. Something unrelated.”
“It might be interesting to get his perspective on it.”
“Or it might make me even crazier. More going around in circles.”
“Never know if you don’t ask.”
I gritted my teeth again and hissed out a breath. “I’ll go see him now. I want to get this over with.”
“Okay. Check in when you’re done.”
I pulled off the road and flipped through my contacts. I didn’t have the congressman’s personal number, but his office number was on our roster. I tapped the number into my phone with unsteady fingers. When I heard the answering voice of his secretary, I drew a deep breath and asked to speak with her boss.
“Congressman Remington? This is Tasmyn Vaughan.”
I heard his weariness. “Hello, Tasmyn. What can I do for you?”
“I need to speak with you. It’s. . it’s about Nick Massler. I found out something, and I don’t know what to do about it.”
There was a pause. “All right. Why don’t you come to my office? I know it’s late, but there are still a few people around. Just come right up. I’ll tell my secretary to expect you.”
I drove the familiar route into town without seeing the fields as I turned over in my mind what I was about to say. I felt almost sorry for John Remington; perhaps he had gotten caught up in a situation that spiraled out of his control. After the other night, I rather thought he might be relieved to admit his guilt.
Remington’s office was on the tenth floor. I could hear minds moving around, the bits and pieces of random thoughts coming from each level as I rode the elevator up. The congressman had been honest about that, at least. I wasn’t walking into an empty building.
His secretary looked up as I approached. She smiled, but there was something just the slightest bit off about her expression—a hint of bewilderment, of confusion.
“The congressman is expecting you,” she said. “But he’s up in his garden, on the roof. He said he thought it would be better for you to talk without distraction.”
The hair prickled at the back of my neck. I wasn’t stupid, and I’d had experience with being led directly into a trap. I grimaced apologetically at the secretary.
“I have a real problem with heights,” I said. “Could you call the congressman and ask him to come back down here?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t take his phone. I know, because I just tried to call him myself to deliver a message, and I could hear it ringing in his office. Sorry.”
I shrugged and took a deep breath. If I could stay close to the doorway, prop it open, I might be able to stay close enough to be safe. Following the direction the secretary had indicated, I opened a door and climbed a set of wooden steps.
There was no door at the other end; the narrow corridor simply opened onto the roof. I could stand on the third step from the top and see almost the entire garden.
I gazed around, casting my mind to try to hear Remington before he saw me. What I heard froze my blood. It was fear, complete and utter terror. And then I spied him.
Congressman John Remington was standing on the very edge of his roof garden. His back was to me, and I pulled in my breath with a hiss as he swayed.
“Mr. Remington!” I screamed. “Don’t move—don’t do it—please, don’t jump—let me get help--”
“NO!” He didn’t turn his head, but his voice was adamant. “No one else. Just...you. Come up here. Sit on the bench. But don’t come any closer than that.”
A chill ran down my back, and I left my perch on the steps. Remington was steadier now, but I felt his despair.
“Why did you come here, Tasmyn?” It was the congressman speaking, but I had the oddest sensation that the words were not his. I couldn’t hear a corresponding echo in his mind; it was almost as thought he was a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“I told you. I have information about Nick Massler. I wanted to hear your. . take on it.”
“Tell me.”
I looked around cautiously, feeling a prickle on my skin, as thought someone else were near.
“I...Nick Massler.” I took another deep breath. “He didn’t kill Helene Gamble. But you knew that, didn’t you?”
A strangled laugh came from the man on the edge. “Of course I knew it. Nick has many faults—I can probably name every one—but murder is not one of them.”
I swallowed hard and shifted on the wooden bench. “So you admit it? You murdered Helene? Or arranged for it to be done?”
Remington gurgled and put his hands to his head. The swirl of confusion in his mind became louder and more insistent.
“No!” he screamed at last. “No. I didn’t know anything about the girl or the murder. No...” He choked on a sob, and turned his head just enough that I could see the tears running down his face.
His body convulsed, and once again he reminded me of a puppet,
this time one whose strings had been cut. He teetered closer to the edge, and without thinking about it, I darted to the edge of the roof and grabbed at him.
I caught hold of his jacket and pulled. Remington tumbled toward me, and we landed in an undignified heap on the gravel floor of his roof garden.
Scrambling to get out from under him, I held tight to his arm, kneeling at his side. “Mr. Remington, please. Don’t move. Stay right here, please.”
“Giving orders now, Tasmyn?”
I spun on my knees, wincing at the sharp pain. Six feet away from us stood Emma, her face expressionless.
“Emma! What are you doing here? Help me, please. The congressman was about to jump.”
She raised one side of her lips. “He was supposed to jump. Do you know how hard it was for me to get him to the edge in the first place? He’s got a very strong mind and a healthy sense of self-preservation. I might have to just toss him over.” She shook her head in regret. “Loses the integrity of a real suicide when the body is tossed. But I can handle that later.”
Heart pounding, I rose to my feet. “What are you talking about, Emma?”
She leaned against one of the raised flowerbeds, smiling at me. I tried to probe her mind, concentrate on her feelings, but all I picked up was the benevolent fondness she’d always emanated toward me. No animosity. But there was a very focused concentration of power streaming from her mind.
Emma flicked her glance to Remington. “Congressman, get up and move over to this bench.”
With jerky movements, he stood and walked to the bench, his legs dragging as though reluctant. With dawning dread, I realized he was struggling against Emma’s manipulation. He sank onto the bench, his face contorted with the frustrated effort.
“That’s better.” Emma sauntered over and sat next to him still smiling at me. “Tasmyn I assume this is the point in the story where I share all the details of my dastardly plan while you figure out how to stop me.”
“Why, Emma? Who are you working for?”
King Series Box Set Page 93
