by Lynn Cahoon
“She wouldn’t do that.”
“She was arrested last year for blackmailing her professor.” Greg paused and let the words sink in. “She told him he fathered Annie.”
The wind completely left me. “Arrested?”
“For blackmailing her professor,” Greg repeated. “The charges were dropped because the man didn’t want to drag his infidelity through the court system. But they ran DNA tests on all three before the charges were dropped.”
“And is he the father?”
“The professor was ruled out as being a possibility as the father. But that doesn’t mean the whole secret baby thing is right.”
“But it doesn’t rule it out.” I stopped and thought. “Can they prove family relationships by testing Miss Emily?” I didn’t know how all this scientific stuff worked, but Greg would.
“They can definitely rule out Bob’s being the grandfather. That’s why I’ve already asked Doc Ames to order the tests.” Greg ran his fork through his mashed potatoes. “I figured you needed proof to satisfy you about Miss Emily’s inheritance. The estate is going to pay for the costs, and they aren’t cheap.”
“I don’t care what it costs. If it proves that Annie is Miss Emily’s great-granddaughter, well, that changes everything.”
“It doesn’t have to. You have no legal responsibility to explore this.”
“But what about a moral one?” No longer hungry, I picked up my almost-full plate and set it in the kitchen sink.
“Jill, you need to let me do my job. First, I find out you’re sneaking into Amy’s apartment, now this thing with Crystal.” Greg picked up the flyer that had been in my car and started reading. “What’s this?”
I’d planned on showing him the threat, but not after this discussion. Now he’d think I’d hidden this, as well. “I found it in my car this morning. I mean, I found it last week, but I didn’t read it until this morning.”
“It’s another threat,” Greg stated the obvious.
“Yeah, but it was left on my car before the funeral, the day Aunt Jackie came.” I leaned against the sink, hoping he wouldn’t blow.
“How many threats do you have to get before you see this as a problem?” Greg sighed. “Give me a plastic baggie.”
I grabbed a quart-sized one. “Will this work?”
He took the bag and slid the threat into it. “I assume your prints are on file at City Hall with your business license?”
“Why?”
“Because I’m going to send this off to those crime scene boys and see if we can get anyone’s prints besides yours and mine.” He stood up, leaving his full plate behind, as well. “If it’s not been too long. You need to be taking these things seriously.”
“I told you, I didn’t find it until today. I planned on giving it to you tonight.” I wasn’t going to run to him like a scared little girl. I already had him almost living at my house.
A voice called from the living room. “Jilly, are you in the kitchen?” Aunt Jackie popped up in the doorway, a pie in her hands. “Sadie Michaels dropped this off at the apartment, and I have a gift for you.”
Greg headed to the door. “I’d better get going. I’m sending Toby over to watch the house tonight, so if you need him, call.”
“Detective King, I’m glad you’re here.” Aunt Jackie set the pie down on the table. “Stay for a piece of pie. I have something to show you.”
“I have police business, ma’am.” He tried to duck around her.
“But this is police business.” Aunt Jackie set her floral bag on the table and started going through it. “Wait, it’s right here,” she said as she continued to dig.
Greg stopped and looked over at me, his shoulders rising in an unasked question.
I shook my head. I had no clue what my crazy aunt was up to.
“Ma’am, I have to go.” Greg started walking back to the kitchen door.
“Wait, here it is.” She handed a flyer to Greg.
“What is that?” I crossed the room and tried to see over Greg’s shoulders. I could have used a stepladder.
“That, my love, is the gallery where they are selling Miss Emily’s paintings. I talked to the owner today, and he has five more that were delivered last week. So, we know it wasn’t Miss Emily doing the delivery.” Aunt Jackie went to the cupboard and pulled out three plates. “Now, who’s up for some apple pie?”
“Did he say who delivered them?” Greg asked.
“He said his acquisitions manager, Shelia, took this delivery. She’s out of town now, but is supposed to be back late this week.” Aunt Jackie started cutting the pie. “I left him your number, and he promised to have her call the moment she gets back. John Paul is such a nice man.”
“John Paul?” I asked, watching the apple slices fall out of the flaky crust as she moved a piece onto one of the plates. My stomach growled. Suddenly, I was starving.
“The gallery owner, dear.” She nodded to the cabinet. “Get us three forks.”
“None for me.” Greg glanced at the pie. “Sadie makes great pies.” He shook his head and started to the door. “Make sure you lock up when I leave. Toby will be over as soon as it gets dark. If you need me before that, call my cell. I’ll be at City Hall.”
I was sure that this evening hadn’t gone the way Greg had planned. I know it wasn’t the way I’d planned for the evening to end, either, but at least I got apple pie to appease my desire. Greg got to go back to work. I followed him to the door.
“You don’t have to have Toby watch me,” I said to his retreating back.
He turned and looked down at me, emotions running behind his eyes, emotions I couldn’t decipher. “You may not take two death threats seriously, but I, I mean, the South Cove Police Department does.” He reached down and pushed my hair out of my eyes.
I leaned into his touch automatically. I closed my eyes, waiting for the feel of his lips on mine. When nothing came, I glanced up at him. He grinned at me and touched the end of my nose.
“Lock the door.” He waited for me to obey before he left the porch, a smile on his face. Twice he’d pulled that almost kiss joke on me, and twice I’d fallen for it. There wouldn’t be a third time. I returned to the kitchen, my aunt, and the pie.
“That man is sure fine. A cool drink of water, I’d say.” Aunt Jackie patted the table next to her. “Come sit down and tell me about these death threats. I’d say you’ve been holding out a little on your old aunt.”
I walked over to the sink and filled up the teakettle, my thoughts on Greg. Yes, he was something else, but he was also someone else’s. Where did I get the idea that he had been going to kiss me? I could feel the heat on my face, probably beet-red from embarrassment. I so totally read him wrong. From now on it would just be business. I could do that. Just treat him like one of the contractors, here to do a job for me. I suspected that hiding my feelings would be harder than I thought.
“Jilly?” Aunt Jackie called from the table. “Are you all right?”
Squaring my shoulders, I turned and put the kettle on the stove to warm. I pulled out two cups and a box of orange spice holiday tea. I sat down to wait, avoiding the question. I didn’t know if I was all right, not yet. I started talking out my fears about Crystal and the house and Annie and if I was even supposed to be here. Our tea had grown cold by the time I finished.
“Well, you sure have been carrying a load of worry on your shoulders.” Aunt Jackie got up and turned the heat back on under the kettle. She took the pie off the table and covered it with plastic before popping it into the fridge.
“What, you think I’m overreacting? Do you see Amy sitting here with us?” Had she heard anything I had just said?
She sat back down. “That’s not what I’m saying. Listen, is there anything you can do about Amy being missing? Did you take her or pay someone to take her?”
“No, but if she hadn’t been looking into the council and Miss Emily’s house for me, maybe she …”
“Exactly, maybe. You don’
t know that she was kidnapped because she was looking into this house. Hell, you don’t know she was kidnapped at all. She could have run into one of those drug gangs that are always picking up women to sell for the slave trade. She could have found an ex-boyfriend who swept her away for an impromptu trip.” Jackie took my cup back to the counter to make a fresh cup of tea. “The fact is, you are worrying about things that are completely out of your control.”
“So, what should I worry about?” I laid my head on the table. I felt dead-tired.
“Things you can control, like finding out more about this Joshua kid and if he was related to Miss Emily.” She set the cup of tea near my head. “You said you found letters from her husband she kept. Have you found any Bob wrote while overseas? If he knew his girlfriend was pregnant, wouldn’t he have let Miss Emily know?”
I lifted my head. I’d forgotten to check for more letters. “I have a box of letters and bills and stuff from her desk that I still need to look through.”
“Well, bring it in. I don’t have plans for tonight, and the town has already rolled up the sidewalks.”
“I’ll be right back.” I left the kitchen to grab the box. Two sets of eyes would make this an easy chore. Besides, it would give me time to ask Aunt Jackie about the state of her financial affairs. Was my globe-trotting aunt broke?
An hour later, we had gone through all the boxes where I’d stashed the papers from Miss Emily’s desk. Aunt Jackie dropped the last of the paper into a box on the floor and sighed. “Nothing. I went through everything from the last ten years of that woman’s life, and nothing. Electric bills, grocery receipts, letters from congressmen and people running for Congress. Didn’t she ever throw anything away?” She stretched. “How about we grab a glass of chardonnay before we call it a night?”
“Sounds good.” Frankly I had come up with a big fat nothing in my pile, as well. Something Aunt Jackie had said was tickling the back of my mind, though … congressmen? Letters? All I knew was I was knee-deep in paper. Besides confirming Miss Emily’s pack rat obsession, I didn’t know anything more that would lead me to believe Crystal’s story about Joshua’s parentage. I didn’t have anything to disprove it, either. Maybe waiting for the DNA tests was the best idea. If my stalker didn’t follow up on his threats, that is.
I went to a side window. I could just see Toby’s aging Dakota truck parked on the street. I poured the last of the coffee. “I’m taking this out to Toby. The wine’s in the fridge and the glasses are—”
Aunt Jackie cut me off. “I can find wineglasses. Just hurry back. I’ll watch you from the window.”
“I don’t think anyone is going to grab me in the driveway.” I pulled on my sweat jacket that had found a new home on a hook behind the kitchen door. The house had been making me feel at home one room at a time. Whenever I finished painting and moving out Miss Emily’s stuff, the room seemed to welcome me. One room after another, the house was becoming my home. If I could just stay alive long enough to finish the renovations, I might be able to stop calling it Miss Emily’s house.
The night air felt chilled from the breeze coming off the ocean. Once the sun set, the California night air, though still warm, had a feeling of wetness to it. I had heard once that the fog that blanketed the coast around San Francisco watered the gigantic redwoods upland on the mountains. I never considered the morning fog a bother on my commute again. The fog had a purpose. I pulled my jacket closer and watched the steam from the coffee waft through the air as I walked.
I could barely see the truck as I zigzagged through the piles of wood for the fence and siding stacked in my driveway. I wished I’d turned on the front light before I had stepped outside. Or grabbed a flashlight. Navigating through this mess was like trying to walk through a junkyard, not the effect I wanted for the house.
Kevin needed to finish up the fence tomorrow so that I could show some progress on the restoration. I had less than three weeks left before the court date and I wanted the council off my back. I was passing by the front fence when I noticed that the fence wasn’t there anymore. The rails were there, but the planks that had crisscrossed the front of the house were missing.
What the hell? I walked closer and found the missing planks. They were broken in two, lying on the ground next to the fence. I picked up one of the broken halves and walked over to the truck. How could Toby have let this happen? I rapped on his window with the jagged piece of wood.
“Toby! Do you see this? I thought you were supposed to be watching out for me?”
No answer. I opened the truck door; the dome light illuminated the empty cab. No Toby. I glanced inside the truck. His keys hung in the ignition, and a bag with what smelled like one of Lille’s burgers and fries sat on the bench seat. No Toby.
A chill ran up my spine. First Amy, then Toby? Could he be chasing down whoever ripped up my fence? I let the door shut quietly and glanced around the empty street. No one, no cars, nothing. South Cove’s business district closed at five on weeknights, with Lille’s staying open until seven. But Lille’s sat at the other end of town. None of the shops on this side had even a flicker of light shining from the inside of their buildings. I set the coffee on the top of Toby’s truck and sprinted back to the house, dodging construction materials as I went.
A light encircled me. “Stop right there,” a male voice boomed out.
I could see the back porch, but reaching it would be impossible. I turned to the voice.
“Miss Gardner? What are you doing out here?” The light lowered, and I could see Toby coming up the driveway.
Relief flooded through my body and my knees almost gave out. “I came to give you coffee. But my fence?” I pointed over to the front of the house.
“Yeah, I saw it. I dozed off for a moment. Lille’s cheeseburgers do that to me.” Toby walked over next to me, a sheepish grin on his face. “When I woke up, there he was just tearing off planks. I tried to stop him, but he’s quick.”
“Someone did that on purpose?” Tears threatened. It was bad enough that I only had three weeks to fix this place, now I had someone undoing what was already completed. I’d never win.
Greg’s truck flew into the driveway, coming to a stop just in front of the Dumpster. He jumped out. “What the heck, Toby? Can’t you handle one stakeout without screwing up?” Greg walked toward us. “And what are you doing out of the house?” He took me by the arm and started toward the back door. “I’ll be back to talk to you in a second,” he growled at Toby.
“I can walk.” I tried to shrug my arm out of his death grip. Geesh, never make this guy mad.
He opened the back door and pushed me inside. He stayed in the doorway. “Are the rest of the doors and windows locked?”
Aunt Jackie jumped up from the table, nearly knocking over her glass of wine. “I’ll go check.”
“Wait,” I called after the retreating body of my aunt, but if she heard me she ignored me. I straightened my posture, shooting an icy stare Greg’s way. “I’m not an idiot. All of the doors and windows were locked.”
“And yet I find you outside and this door completely unlocked when we came in.” Greg leaned up against the doorway.
“I was taking Toby some coffee. Sue me for trying to be nice.”
“Jill, did you ever think that what happened to your fence could have really been aimed at you? That someone could be trying to change the outcome of the will and what happens to this house?”
“I didn’t.”
“You didn’t think. I’m not an idiot, either. I know the council has eyes on this house for some new development, but, Jill, if you are going to stay safe, you have to listen to me. A help-me-help-you sort of thing.”
Greg seemed tired, but I had to know. “You think the council had something to do with this?”
“The council, the mayor, that developer, Crystal, or even George Jones, the list of suspects isn’t shrinking as the investigation goes on, it’s growing.” Greg shook his head. “I’m tired, and I’ve got to go knock s
ome sense into Toby. Lock the door behind me and stay inside.” He shut the door but stayed right outside looking at me through the window until I came over and locked the door and the dead bolt.
“Everything’s still locked up, Detective King.” Aunt Jackie came into the kitchen. Her face fell when she saw I was alone in the room. “He’s gone?”
“For now.” I went to dump my wine out into the sink and rinsed the glass. “Hey, why don’t you bunk with me tonight? There’s a spare room upstairs.”
“I have to be up early to open the shop.”
“Not a problem.” I figured I wouldn’t get much sleep tonight, but knowing Aunt Jackie would be safe with me would help. Although I wasn’t sure if either one of us was totally safe here, at least Greg knew where to find us.
Chapter 16
After watching Aunt Jackie drive off to open the store the next morning, I turned back to the overstuffed living room. I’d already called Kevin, the fence guy, to come give me an estimate for the insurance company and repair the fence. I didn’t have time to wait around for the bureaucracy to approve the estimates. I’d just have to take my chances I’d be at least partially reimbursed. Time to finish off the new study and start on the living room. The harder I worked, the less likely I would fret about the vandalism and the threats. No one would scare me away from my house.
I walked into the study. The colors glowed, warm and inviting. I could just see the love seat with a tall marble end table on one side, a green droopy plant taking up most of the table. Miss Emily’s desk would go next to the window. All I needed to do was scrub down the floor and move in what furniture I did have. Then time to go shopping.
The clock struck noon by the time I had stripped away the paint cloths, cleaned the floor, and gone over it with a sealant that should help protect the wood. I was done with the room until the floor dried. I went into the kitchen to make a sandwich, and Miss Emily’s painting caught my eye. I needed to bring in another one for the study before my art thief cleaned out the rest of my supply. I wasn’t sure getting back stolen art was as easy as it seemed in the spy novels I read. I quickly made up a PB and J and took the sandwich out with me to the shed, grabbing the shed key from the basket on the kitchen counter.
