But no sign of the teen either.
Tom tapped on the window. When Kate turned at the sound with nothing more than curiosity in her gaze, he took his first full breath since finding her house abandoned. He pointed to the front door.
A moment later Kate pushed it open. “Tom? What are you doing back here?”
You can’t protect her forever. His adrenaline resurged. “You left a kettle screaming on your stove and your door standing open. I thought—” He pressed his lips into a grim line. She didn’t need to know what he thought.
“Oh.” Her cheeks flushed. “I rushed over here so quickly I—”
“Why?” He peered over her shoulder into the house. “What’s going on?” The question came out more tersely than he’d intended.
Kate shifted as if she might block his entrance. “Why are you here, Tom? Verna’s not in any condition to answer more questions right now.”
Great, now he had her worried he was after Verna. “There’s been another counterfeiting incident,” he improvised. No reason to upset her with the note. “I need to talk to her.”
Kate wavered a moment, then stepped aside. She lowered her voice as he joined her in the entranceway. “I’m not sure how much help she’ll be. She’s acting odd. Her grandson was here and didn’t know what to do, so he asked for my help.”
“How do you mean, odd?”
“Kind of giddy. Euphoric even.”
“That’s a bad thing? Maybe she’d just heard from an old friend.”
“No, Tom. She’s not just happy. She’s seeing ‘pretty’ colors. Is surprised I can’t see them.”
He moved toward the living room where Verna sat smiling inanely at the air three feet below the ceiling. “It sounds like we need to get her to a doctor.”
Kate halted him with a hand to his chest. “But if he sends her to the hospital, her son will use the incident as an excuse to have her removed from her home.”
Tom covered Kate’s hand still resting against his chest. “Kate, you do not want to come between this woman and her family.” Especially when the woman’s family might be counterfeiters.
Kate slipped her hand from beneath his and fussed with her necklace. “She doesn’t seem to be in any physical distress.”
“Yet.” Tom steered Kate toward the kitchen to avoid being seen by Verna for a while longer. The room was bright and cheerful with white cupboards and two sunny windows, the exact opposite of his current mood. He needed to interview Verna about the tea set sold to his sister, to make sure ten-dollar bills weren’t the only counterfeits being passed off at Verna’s expense, but he didn’t like the coincidental timing of this sudden downturn. “Have you checked her prescriptions for potential interactions, maybe with some of those herbal teas she likes so much?”
“I checked the kitchen cupboards, her bedside table, the bathroom cabinet. She doesn’t seem to have any prescriptions. Her grandson said he’d never seen her take any meds.”
Tom gave the room a cursory glance. “Where is he?”
“I told him I’d stay with his grandmother until I was sure she’s okay.”
“So he just left?”
“He’s a kid. He was freaked.”
Tom took a closer look at a plant on the kitchen windowsill. Beside it sat a dish with partially dried leaves. “What are these?”
“Catnip.”
“Do you think she drinks catnip tea? That would explain her odd behavior.”
“Actually, it doesn’t affect people the same way as cats. Besides, I think she uses it as a hair rinse, not a tea.”
“A hair rinse?” He couldn’t help the you’re-kidding-me tone that crept into his voice.
“Don’t laugh. It works really well.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” He tapped the canisters lining the counter. “What about these teas? Her housekeeper was just in A Cup or Two buying a special mix for her.”
“I don’t know about that, but none of what’s here would explain the change either.”
Tom shook his head. “I don’t like it. For all we know, she could have a tumor pushing on her brain.”
“I know, but . . .” Kate bit her lower lip. “She is so afraid her son will put her in a home.”
“It might be for the best. She’d be safe from whoever’s preying on her declining faculties.”
“So you finally believe me that she wasn’t faking about not knowing where the money came from?”
He shoved his hand in his pocket, feeling the paper he’d stuffed inside. Finding that note on his car had turned his priorities on their ear. “I don’t know yet.”
Kate’s concerned gaze darted to the living room where Verna was now humming a ditty. “But you just said—?”
“Just because someone is taking advantage of her doesn’t mean she’s unaware of it. Does Verna have an antique tea set?”
“What does that have to do with anything?”
“A teenage boy sold one to my sister yesterday. Gave her a phony bill as change.”
“You think it was Verna’s set?” Kate skirted past him into the dining room and stopped in front of a curio cabinet. “It’s gone.”
Now he was getting somewhere. And if Verna didn’t give her housekeeper permission to sell the tea set, he could add theft to the counterfeit charges. He met Kate’s reflected gaze in the mirror behind the empty shelf. Her anguished expression said she didn’t share his enthusiasm for the break in the case. “I’m sorry.”
She let out a sigh that seemed to drain the last of her fight. “I can’t believe Verna’s grandson would do this to her.”
“He didn’t. A Latino teen named Pedro sold the tea set. Said he was Lucetta’s nephew.”
Kate gasped.
“I take it you know him . . . and can’t believe he’d do such a thing?”
For a long moment, Kate didn’t respond. She merely stared at the dust rings in the curio cabinet where the tea set had been. “Actually . . . that kid has always made me a bit uneasy.”
The hair on the back of Tom’s neck prickled to attention. “Uneasy how?”
“I don’t know.” The way Kate hugged her middle, as if guarding against whatever the kid might do, tripled Tom’s unease. “I ran into him when I visited Herbs Are Us after Daisy died. He watched me with this smug look. That’s when I figured Daisy got killed because she happened upon a grow-op, so I thought the kid might be involved.” Kate unfolded her arms and threw a helpless glance toward the living room. “Now, it’s just . . .”
“You don’t want to believe Verna’s housekeeper would do this to the old gal.”
Kate shrugged. “I guess.”
“Well, if we’re going to get to the bottom of this, I need to ask her what she did with her tea set while she’s still halfway lucid.” He touched the small of Kate’s back and gently prodded her into the room ahead of him.
A car pulled up across the street from Kate’s house.
Tom groaned. “Terrific.”
“What’s wrong?”
He strode to the door. “You have company.”
For once Kate was happy to obey Tom’s growled “stay put” before he stalked out of Verna’s house in full-cop mode. The last person she wanted to face was the Port Aster Press’s roving reporter. Following Molly’s arrest, it had only been by the grace of God and a hospital security guard’s zeal that the last reporter who’d tried to snap an exclusive photo had ended up in the drink along with his cell phone camera. Herbert was no doubt eager to make sure he didn’t get scooped on the breaking news of her supposed spiral into crime. And unlike the last guy, Herbert came equipped with a real camera.
He turned from his car and all but collided with Tom, who even from her vantage point looked like an immovable force. Herbert must have gotten the same impression, because after a longing glance toward her house, he climbed back into his car and zoomed away, tires squealing in protest.
She half expected Tom to toss her a satisfied grin and feign brushing the dust off his hands,
but he didn’t even glance back at Verna’s house, let alone return to start his questioning. Instead he scooted down her side yard.
Kate hurried to the kitchen in time to spot him slipping through her patio door.
As much as she trusted Tom, he was still a cop. It was one thing to search her house out of concern for where she’d disappeared to. But to nose around without her permission? What did that lunatic reporter tell him?
She hurried to Verna and knelt in front of her. “Will you be okay alone for a few minutes?” Guilt niggled her. She’d promised Verna’s grandson she wouldn’t leave. Of course, Verna hadn’t seemed the least bit concerned when she left the room to talk with Tom.
“I’m fine, dear,” Verna chirped. “No need to stay.”
And she did look fine. Her eyes were clear, and the giddy quality had left her voice. Taking advantage of what might be her only opportunity, Kate took Verna’s hand. “I couldn’t help but notice that your fancy tea set isn’t in the curio cabinet.” Kate rubbed tiny circles over the woman’s gnarled fingers. “Did you give it away?”
Verna patted Kate’s hand with her other one. “Did you admire my tea set too? It was my mother’s.” Her gaze drifted.
“Yes,” Kate said softly, hoping to draw her back to the conversation. “It was lovely.”
“I gave it to Lucetta. The poor dear came to this country with nothing. I wanted her to have something nice.”
“How kind.” Considering how unkind Lucetta had been to turn around and sell such a precious gift. “Did she buy it from you?” That might explain how Verna ended up with the counterfeit cash.
“Oh, no. It was a gift. She doesn’t have money to spare. She scrapes together all she can each month to send back to her relations.”
“I see.” Kate released Verna’s hand and pushed to her feet. “I need to get home now, but I’ll check in on you later, okay?”
“Visit anytime, dear. Anytime.”
Kate hurried out the back door and across the yard to her house. She pushed open the kitchen’s patio door and froze.
Tom stood in the opposite doorway, his gun aimed at something in her living room.
Her pulse raced.
He spared her an irritated glance. “I told you to stay put.”
“What’s going on?” she said in a squeaky voice, not daring to move and not entirely sure she’d asked loud enough for him to hear.
“I can explain,” a female voice pleaded.
Patti? What was her new research assistant doing in her house?
Kate edged toward Tom, which earned her a glare that would’ve glued a lesser person to the wall. Patti probably had a perfectly reasonable explanation for being in her house.
“Well, you’re in luck,” Tom said to her. “Kate just arrived, so you can explain it to the both of us.” He jerked his gun sideways. “Take a seat and keep your hands where I can see them. Kate,” he said without taking his eyes off his target, “care to join us?”
She peeked around the doorway and startled at the sight of a six-foot GQ model taking a seat beside her plain, plump research assistant.
Tom lowered his gun. “Do you know these people?”
“I . . .” She swallowed, pressed a hand to her hammering heart. “I know Patti. She works for me. I’m afraid—”
“This is Jarrett, my boyfriend,” Patti blurted. “I’ve told you about him.” The young man waved at her.
Kate nodded at him and stepped into the room. “Yes, you have.” She shouldn’t be surprised that such a good-looking guy would be interested in Patti. The girl was sweet as pie. Kate drew a deep breath, willing her heart to slow. Of course, she’d have an easier time believing his affection was genuine if Patti hadn’t recently inherited a wad of money. “But why are the two of you in my house?”
“I heard about your run-in at the supermarket. I tried calling. I even went to the police station, but they said no arrests were made, so I came here looking for you. Your car was in the driveway, so when you didn’t answer the bell, I figured you were around back. You weren’t, so I let myself in to leave you a note.” She barely stopped long enough to draw a breath, then plunged on. “Once I got inside, I remembered that you forgot to leave the test trial results before you left work, and I’d planned to work on the analysis this weekend. So I poked around your desk to see if I could spot them.” She motioned toward Daisy’s old rolltop.
Not to Kate’s computer desk in the corner.
The thought of Patti poking through Daisy’s files sent an uneasy ripple through Kate’s chest.
“That’s when this guy”—Patti jerked her thumb toward Tom—“showed up and pointed his gun at us.”
Kate bristled at the thought of how scared Patti must have been. Not that Kate approved of Patti letting herself in, no matter how well-intentioned.
“Do you want to press charges, Miss Adams?” Tom said, his tone brisk.
Miss Adams? She understood the need to appear to have a professional distance between them, but did he have to sound so abrupt? “No, of course not. I believe her.”
Tom holstered his weapon, then pinned his gaze on Patti yet again. “In the future, I suggest you wait for an invitation before entering a house.”
Patti’s cheeks reddened. “Yes sir.”
Jarrett remained quiet throughout the entire exchange. Kate had almost forgotten about him until she noticed that he was staring at Daisy’s desk. “Is something the matter?”
“Huh?” Jarrett looked up.
“With the desk?” she said tersely, ignoring the renewed hammering in her chest.
“Oh, no. Just admiring the woodwork. You don’t see desks like that any more.”
“Jarrett does carpentry in his spare time,” Patti jumped in. “He’s always noticing stuff like that.”
Jarrett slid his arm around Patti’s shoulders and gave her an adoring squeeze. Her cheeks bloomed under the attention.
Kate had no idea why else Jarrett would be interested in an old desk, but finding him in her living room uninvited didn’t make her want to trust him. She slid a sideways glance at Tom. “I’m afraid I need to cut this visit short. It was nice to meet you, Jarrett. Patti, I’ll email you that data this evening.”
“Okay, sure. That’d be fine.” She and Jarrett stumbled over each other rushing for the front door, as if neither could escape fast enough. “See you Monday.”
Okay, now that was weird. Then again, seeing Tom adjust the gun in his holster . . . maybe not.
He locked the door behind them.
“Was the gun really necessary?”
“Finding two prowlers in your house after”—he wiped a hand across his mouth—“after everything that’s happened? Yeah, I’d say it was necessary.”
“Okay.” She exhaled, trying to release the pent-up, freaked-out feeling of finding him pointing a gun at her assistant in her house. “I guess I see your point.”
“Does she always talk like a runaway train? ’Cause she sure sounded guilty to me.”
Kate chuckled. “She talks like one. And thankfully works like one too. She’s helped me make up for a lot of lost time with . . . with everything that’s been going on.”
Tom nodded, sympathy for her loss radiating from his gaze. “Still . . . didn’t you find her compulsion to explain Jarrett’s unusual interest in Daisy’s desk curious?”
Kate waved off the insinuation and headed back to the kitchen. “That’s just Patti. Besides, after the way you held them at gunpoint, I’m sure she felt like she had a lot of explaining to do.”
“You’re too trusting.” Tom’s breath whispered across her ear.
Turning abruptly, she found herself with her nose to his chin. She retreated a step. “Being trusting isn’t so bad.”
“Just surprised me, considering how opposed you are to that pharmaceutical company’s move to Port Aster the mayor’s been championing. I take it you don’t know who Jarrett is?”
She arched a brow and spoke slowly. “He’s . . . my resear
ch assistant’s . . . boy . . . friend.”
“And the mayor’s son.”
“What?”
Tom smirked. “Yeah, kind of figured you didn’t know. You want me to arrest them now?”
Kate gasped. “Do you think his father put him up to dating my research assistant to spy on me?”
Tom chuckled. “Didn’t take you long to lose that trusting nature.”
“Stop it. I’m serious. Do you think he knows I’ve been quietly trying to change a few board members’ minds about agreeing to partner with GPC?”
Tom instantly sobered. “Your research assistant could’ve mentioned it. The mayor is determined to see GPC’s move take place. I wouldn’t put anything past him. Can you trust Patti?”
Kate shook her head. “I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”
Tom clasped her arms and dipped his head until their eyes met. “You can trust me.”
“Can I?”
4
“Catch me, Uncle Tom. Catch me!”
Tom spun around just in time to see his nephew sail from his tree fort. Tom snatched him from the air, turning to absorb the momentum.
The giggling boy hugged Tom’s neck. “I knew you’d catch me!”
The trust gleaming from the boy’s eyes made Tom’s heart float higher than the helium-filled balloons decorating the yard.
If only Kate shared his nephew’s conviction. Maybe he should have told her about the note left on his windshield. Except its implication that she was guilty and he had compromised his integrity by siding with her would’ve only bolstered her other reasons for turning down a second date.
Tom plunked his nephew on the ground and shook off the frustration that had plagued him since leaving Kate’s yesterday. This was Timmy and Terry’s fourth birthday. No time to wallow. Kate was a suspect in his counterfeit investigation. Why should it matter to him if she trusted him?
Okay, the fact that he’d call her a suspect, when he knew she wasn’t, reinforced why she didn’t.
The terror in her eyes when she’d walked in on him holding her intruders at gunpoint replayed in his mind, echoed by the note’s You can’t protect her forever. What if next time the threat was real?
Blind Trust Page 4
