Maggie raised her glass, but set it slowly back on the table. She knew he hadn't meant to, but he'd just put a damper on the evening. Without a word, she began stacking plates and silverware until he stilled her hands with his.
"What's wrong? What'd I say?"
"Wyatt used to say that same phrase after almost every meal. It brought back things I'd rather forget, that's all."
"Andrew always said it to Bridey when she cooked or to Vidalia. I remember he always made Vidalia blush. I didn't think about it upsetting you."
"It's okay, Graeme." If he hadn't held onto her hands, she might've bolted from the room.
"What happened between you two?"
"You mean besides him committing suicide?" She knew that sounded harsh but she still harbored a substantial amount of anger toward her dead husband.
"I know you sought a divorce attorney a few months before he died."
"Damn, Elliott . . . he --" She attempted to dislodge her hands once more, but he held her fast.
"He meant no harm. I pushed him for information."
She wrestled for a beat or two on whether she should tell him. Dirty Laundry danced at the back of her brain, but Graeme was her friend or had been. She had questions of her own and maybe he could help her get it all straight so she could finally move forward for herself and Andy. With a deep steadying breath, she decided to throw details of her previous life with Wyatt out there for Graeme's evaluation.
"About two years ago, I started noticing little things like some of the trips he took grew longer. A day or two here or there, sometimes he'd return the same day. Sometimes he flew alone, but often he made the trips with Harley Jenkins."
"Who's he?"
"He is a she and Southern Star's only female pilot," she explained.
"This is the first I've heard of her."
'Yeah, well, I heard plenty about her. She and Trevor were over here a lot in the beginning. "
"Then what?"
"Then one day she stopped coming over, Wyatt stopped talking about her – in short, she disappeared. At least off my radar."
"Where'd she go?"
"I don't know. It's like she flew into the Bermuda Triangle. Wyatt stopped hanging out with Trevor, and stayed in the office all the time. I think he even slept there, that is when he slept at all.
"I suggested he might be having an affair. So Elliott referred me to a lawyer." He released her this time and she took a drink of wine. "The attorney hired a private investigator, but before I found out what he discovered, Wyatt died."
He covered his glass when she went to empty the bottle's contents into it. "Elliott mentioned drugs being involved. Did Wyatt take anything on a regular basis?"
"No, not recently. But, do you remember the summer he broke his back busting that bronc?"
"I do, docs didn't know if he'd walk again."
"Well, after several months, he became addicted to Lortab."
"Hydrocodone, both heaven and hell in convenient tablet form."
"He denied the addiction for several years until his desire to fly and a baby on the way changed him. Andrew got him into rehab and, as far as I know, he kept in touch with his sponsor and attended regular NA meetings."
"What can you tell me about the stolen morphine charges the DA had against you?"
"The investigation discovered a newly hired nurse took my ID card and accessed the PYXIS machine. They found the drugs in her locker on the hospital campus, arrested her and dropped the charges against me."
For no reason involuntary shivers overtook her. She hugged herself in an attempt to ward off chills that crept up her spine. Graeme got up from his chair and pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, absorbing his warmth, her body experiencing little shivers that had nothing to with bad memories. Suddenly tears welled for the second time in as many days, and spilled down her cheeks. In no time the front of his shirt had reached its capacity to hold more water.
She cried herself out in a few minutes and when she looked up from his chest, she realized he'd moved them from the breakfast nook to the couch. They sat beside each other, her curled into his embrace and covered with the afghan. Without a second thought, she pulled his soaked shirt up and wiped her nose.
He chuckled and asked, "Feel better?"
"I should. Wow, I don't know what came over me."
"You've been strung pretty tight for months, now, and the dam finally broke."
"Graeme?"
"Yes, darlin'?"
"You never answered me when I asked if you thought Wyatt killed himself. Do you think he could've?"
"I don't know what to think yet, but I intend to give the matter a second look."
"I'm glad," she whispered. "I tried to get someone – anyone to listen to me when the preliminary reports came out. Andrew's health precluded me from talking to him, but Nelson shut me down pretty quick. I sent letters to the NTSB asking them not to close their investigation but to no avail. Somehow, we need to restore Wyatt's reputation for Andy."
Graeme leaned back into the corner of the couch, pulling her with him. He rested his head on the back cushion and said, "I promise to do my best."
Chapter 11
Graeme sank into the leather seat of the Lexus parked in front of Maggie's house and scrubbed his hands over his face to clear some of the early morning cobwebs.
Elliott let out a long low whistle. "What the hell happened to you?"
"Had an untimely meeting with a steering wheel and a dashboard." He swatted his brother's hand away from the neck of his shirt. "I survived, but last rites for the truck may be pronounced sooner than later. What's so important that it supersedes coffee?"
"We discovered the computer files and the information on the SD card are encrypted. All, that is, except a letter addressed to you and me." Elliott held up the card between his thumb and forefinger. "I think you'll find it interesting."
"Did you bring a computer?"
"Right here." Elliott reached behind Graeme's seat, and pulled the laptop to the center console. He raised the lid, turned it on and, after it booted up, he inserted the card.
Profound loss and regret wrenched Graeme's gut as he started reading. He recognized Wyatt's manner and tone, and easily visualized him speaking.
Hey, dickheads, if one or both of you are reading this, then I must be dead. Graeme, I'm counting on your big nose butting in and taking over. Since this is Andy's favorite game, I knew he'd talk you into finding out why it didn't work. Sorry about the encrypted files, but you'll figure it out. I won't get into what's going on here, suffice it to say it's criminal and, I'm pretty sure, national.
I trust you and Elliott to take care of Andy, Maggie and the family. Please tell Maggie I'm sorry. I know how things looked on the surface. Tell her I love her, and never meant to hurt her. Tell my boy he's the best thing in my life.
Finally, we may not be related by blood, but through the years we've fought like brothers and loved like brothers – we are brothers. Make sure you share this with Mike, Law and Katie.
Graeme ejected the card, closed the computer lid then handed it back to Elliott. He put the card into his pocket and took a minute to gather his thoughts.
Elliott broke the silence. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
"Besides the fact he wants us to think he's a sentimental asshole?"
His brother grinned and nodded. "Yeah, besides that."
"We have to know what's in those files. If your geek can't help, did he offer any ideas?"
"Eddie suggested we get in touch with the NSA."
"Well, I can leave for D.C. this afternoon. Surely Joe can call in another favor. Did you bring Wyatt's laptop?"
Elliott pulled the other computer from the pocket behind his seat and handed it over. "Besides holding down the fort, what do you want me to do?"
"Poke your nose in at Southern Star. See if you notice anything out of the ordinary." He opened the door and exited the car, then leaned back in adding, "You know those background checks on W
idmore and Riordon looked a little too clean. Keep it on the down low, but have your investigator do some checking, see what he uncovers. And watch out for Maggie?"
"Got it."
"I want to leave her the SUV, can you drop me off at the main house?"
"Sure."
"I'll go grab a couple of things and tell her good-bye."
Maggie waited for him on the porch as he turned back toward the house. He welcomed her arms around his waist in a tight hug thinking he could get used to this. Eagerly, he returned her hug. "Good morning."
"Back at you." She grinned and stepped in front of him to go through the door. "What's going on?"
Graeme wondered if he should tell her about their discovery or if he should keep it to himself for now. He opted for keeping silent on specifics and the letter until they knew what they were dealing with. "I must've accidentally turned off my phone. My boss had tried but couldn't reach me, so he asked Elliott to relay a message."
"Aha. So why is Elliott still out there with the motor running? Is he the get-away driver?" She gave a little half-laugh.
"Maggie, I have to make a trip to D.C. and I may be a couple of days." He rested his hands on her shoulders. "Can I do anything for you before I go?"
"No," she said tightly, pushing away from him. "Are you coming back? Will I see you again?"
"Of course, I . . ."
"Don't even." Both her hands went up between them palms facing him. "Swear to God, I'm so tired of being abandoned by the men in my life. I'd just started to trust you."
The stubborn set of her jaw, told him she probably wouldn't hear anything he said right now, but dammit he had to try. "Listen, honey, I'll be back in a couple of days and we'll talk."
"You bet your bottom dollar we'll talk," she said, her green eyes smoldering with heat. "And I suggest you bring your A-game."
He turned to leave, stopping on the threshold. Looking over his shoulder, he winked and said, "You're on, darlin'."
* * *
"I love you, too, Andy." Maggie returned her little boy's customary phone kiss and a hug. "Be good for Nanny and Pops. I miss you." She imagined him dropping the phone and running off, also customary when he'd finished with the conversation. Her mother picked it right back up.
"You're sure you don't mind if we stay another couple of days?"
"Of course not. We have another week and a few days before he starts school and I go back to work. I'm glad y'all are having fun."
"I can't remember when I've had this good a time. Thanks, sweetie and I'll call you before we leave for the airport."
"Bye, mom." She smiled when, before the call disconnected, she heard her mom's sing-song voice say, "Woo Hoo, let's go". She tried but couldn't remember the last time Nancy had actually had fun. Her mom had rarely enjoyed her life, having worked day and night since Maudie hired her more than fifteen years ago.
She wondered what she'd now do with her extra time, although several projects still loomed in front of her. Which one to best chase Graeme McAlister out of her thoughts? He popped in and out at the most inappropriate times. During a meal, in the middle of the night, when she'd wanted to focus on the conversation with her son – well, maybe she needed to rethink the night-time invasions. A delicious quiver wafted through her at the memory of last night's dream.
He also topped her shit list she reminded herself. Obviously, his trip to D.C. encompassed more than he'd told her and that pissed her off. She thought they'd come farther than him being less than honest with her. Short of calling him or going back to bed, Maggie propelled herself toward the garden. Right now, a hoe and a rake seemed the best way to deal with her feelings.
She wasn't as upset with him as she'd wanted him to think. Frustrated more aptly described her feelings, well that and confusion as to how he affected her. At any given moment, she liked or hated him, thought him too close or missed him beyond all reason.
She grabbed the hoe from the small shed out back and began weeding. When she reached the area beneath the bedroom window she stopped at the sight of a footprint. Graeme and Ben had noticed it the other morning after the cat fiasco. Their caution had been convincing enough that it'd stayed in the back of her mind even though she wouldn't have admitted it out loud. She traced around the outline with the tip of her finger. The shape said boot, but that wasn't unusual out here.
More importantly, when had there been enough moisture in the ground to even make a print? She couldn't remember any significant rainfall in who knew when, except maybe a heat shower here or there. She decided not to dwell on it further since it wasn't likely the print was recent. With determined strokes and jabs at the hardened dirt, she erased the outline and finished the rest of the garden.
A while later Maggie locked the door on the shed and walked back to the patio, now in latticed shade from the pergola Wyatt had built for her. After she drank from the thermos, now near empty of cool water, she poured the remainder down the front of her shirt. The drastic temperature change forced a sharp intake of hot outside air and she cried out at the shock.
Dinah came around the corner of the house at that precise moment. "Is that your own personal form of torture?"
"Geez, the water was colder than I thought," she croaked while fanning her shirt back and forth. "It's a good thing I'm not made of crock or ceramic, I might've cracked from the temp difference."
"Why are you out here in this heat anyway?"
"I did a little gardening."
"Why?"
"Because I needed to work . . ." Maggie stopped before giving her friend fodder for her imagination. That's the last thing she wanted to encourage. "I want to finish working the garden before I go back to work."
"Well, I think you're nuts, but that's not why I'm here." She followed Maggie into the kitchen. "It turns out I need a place to stay for a week or so."
"Of course you can stay, but what're you up to besides working at the Dine-Inn?"
"Do you remember when I worked for that event planner a couple of summers ago?"
"Yes."
"It turns out so does Bridey Benning, and to make a long story short, she asked me if I'd consider helping out her planner with the barbeque."
"Wow, that'd be quite a feather in your cap. What happened to the coordinator she contracted with?"
"I think she came down with a virus or something. She's having tests done." Dinah had the grace to appear saddened by her statement, and then said, "I'm so excited I can't stand it. Do you know what a recommendation from Bridey Benning could do for me?"
"Yes, I do." She smiled, happy for her friend. "You can stay here for as long as you want to."
"Thanks, Mags, and your mom had already told Bridey that Harry could help with cooking and serving the barbeque. How great is that?"
"It's quite a boost for local business," Maggie agreed. She'd fixed glasses of iced tea while Dinah bubbled out her news. "So are you still helping out at the café?"
"Not as much, because everyone's shown up for their shifts. But if I need you to help me, can you?"
"I'm sure I can, at least until mom brings Andy home and I start work."
"Love it." Dinah gave her thumbs up then drank the last of her tea. "I'm going back to the main house now and talk to Bridey some more about the details. I just wanted to share the news."
Maggie followed her out and waved good-bye from the porch. The flower decorated VW Beetle practically danced its way down the drive toward the road. She couldn't be happier for Dinah. This could finally launch her in the right direction. Poor girl had searched for a good career fit since they'd left school. She sincerely hoped this developed so Dinah could, at last, find happiness and stability.
She realized even after the hard, hot work outside, she wasn't near as tired as she thought she'd be. Food didn't sound appetizing nor did she want to watch TV. There were still a few boxes to empty, so she decided to get to it. The first two contained linens and sundry items that she put away quickly. The other two had things from Wyatt's o
ffice at Southern Star. She'd avoided them, thus far, as either too stressful or as a task not to do in Andy's presence.
They appeared to contain the usual desk items, stapler, tape dispenser, ruler, pens, a mouse and mouse pad. There were a couple of books, a dictionary and a coffee cup she given him that said, "Fly 'em Cowboy!" She ran her fingers over the caricature of a cowboy riding a jet and the raised script. She'd given it to him on the day he'd started working with Andrew, but didn't know he'd kept it.
Setting it aside, she swiped at a tear and picked up a schedule of flight times for Southern Star Airlines. She found a clipping from a Dallas newspaper sandwiched between the pages and took care straightening the slightly yellowed piece so as not to damage it. The article was an obituary and as she read the contents chills ran up her spine making her shiver all over. Trepidation filled her and she knew regardless her personal frustrations, she had to share this information with Graeme as soon as possible.
* * *
"Thank you for doing this, Graeme." Amanda Hartford smiled for the numerous cameras aimed at the attending dignitaries and their guests. "You look like a million bucks tonight, in spite of your purple-green eyes."
"Thanks and you're welcome. I've always helped out when I can." He stopped short before adding that he thought he'd dodged this dinner when he'd declined her invitation last week. He'd given in upon his arrival in D.C. this afternoon only after she'd played the damsel in distress and promised not to ask this particular kind of favor again.
"Yes, you have," she agreed. "Except you won't run for office. You'd make a fantastic Congressman."
"Pace yourself, Amanda, we're not inside, yet." He removed his hand from her elbow and stepped back a fraction. "I can still go get a burger from Five Guys."
She managed to look contrite. "All right, all right, I'll let it go for this evening. Come on," she said, taking him by the hand. "Oh, there's dad with Joe and the President."
Graeme accompanied her over to the group of powerful men. He greeted each one, Senator Hub Hartman, his superior, Joe Webster, and President Nichols with a handshake. After pleasantries and praises were exchanged, Joe asked another man standing behind him to join them. As the dark-haired man turned around, Graeme recognized him as his colleague, friend and foster brother, Mike Anthony. In a few short years, Mike had become the best undercover agent INTERCEPT had, so Graeme waited to be introduced. He didn't want to compromise an assignment.
9 Ways to Fall in Love Page 39
