Dangerous Inheritance

by Barbara Warren

  “You think someone was trying to get in?” Her voice trembled slightly.

  “Someone was almost in,” Nick replied. “That’s probably what set off the alarm. I’m guessing he had the door partially open when it went off like that. I told you the neighbors here keep a close watch on each other. He only had a few seconds to run for cover before everyone was awake and out their front doors.”

  Nick called the station to report the disturbance and received permission to handle the investigation, then turned to Macy. “Let’s sit down and talk for a minute. Give you a chance to calm down.” And give him more time to look at her. Even dressed in a dark green robe of some kind of silky fabric, that fiery hair tumbled around her shoulders and no makeup, she was beautiful.

  They sat down in the living room and Nick glanced around, taking notice. This stately old home had been the scene for a lot of violence. He intended to bring that to a close if it was at all possible. And with God’s help he believed it was.

  Now that things had calmed down, Macy looked worn out. He could imagine what waking up to the sound of that alarm going off could do to a person. No wonder she was slumped in the chair, eyes closed. He fought the urge to wrap her in his arms, holding her close, comforting her, but this wasn’t the time to allow personal emotions to distract him. Right now he could serve Macy better by keeping focused on what had happened here tonight.

  His heart clenched at the thought of what she’d been put through, and he hadn’t been here to protect her. He couldn’t watch over her every minute of the day and night, but he still felt guilty. “You all right?”

  She opened her eyes and gave him a faint nod. “I will be, as soon as I pull myself together. Nick, what do you suppose is in this house someone wants badly enough to break in?”

  He didn’t want to answer that, mainly because he thought this intruder might have been after who was here, not what. He had a bad feeling that someone wanted to eliminate the woman who was keeping everything stirred up.

  Nick shook his head. “I don’t know, Macy. I’d guess it might be something valuable or even incriminating. We’ll just have to keep searching and pray we find it before the intruder does.”

  “I know, but it’s so frustrating. I did have a flash of something. I guess you’d call it a memory. It was a voice—a voice I felt I’d heard before, but it was loaded with hatred.”

  “What did it say?”

  She cleared her throat, looking shaken. “You brat! Get away from me.”

  He listened while she repeated the remembered words. While it wasn’t much, he’d file it away with the other bits and pieces they were accumulating. Maybe it would all fit together eventually.

  “You thought it seemed familiar?”

  “Yes, but only for a minute. I wasn’t exactly hearing it, you know, just remembering someone saying it. I have no idea whose voice it could have been.”

  Nick didn’t want to go there. For his money it had probably been a remembered echo of the killer’s voice. And who would have sounded more familiar than her father, the man who had gone to prison for killing his wife?

  He reached for his flashlight. “I need to look around outside. Lock the door behind me.”

  Nick left the porch light on and stood looking around. A small piece of mud lay about a foot from the door, but he didn’t see anything else. He turned on the flashlight and descended the steps, checking the ground in front of the house. Then he walked slowly around the side of the building, searching for footprints or anything out of order, but didn’t find anything. Back in front again, he stepped up on the porch and Macy opened the door. He shook his head, answering her questioning expression. She still looked shaken, but she moved aside so he could enter.

  He patted her shoulder. “How about making a pot of coffee, and let’s talk.”

  Nick watched as she went through the motions, noticing how the simple, everyday task seemed to calm her somewhat. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Joe had fixed the alarm and installed new locks. Instead of sitting here watching her move around the kitchen, he could have been investigating a fatal crime scene.

  The thought of something happening to Macy sent a surge of concern through him. Although he hadn’t known her very long, he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her. Somehow he had to learn what was going on, and figure out a way to keep her safe. It all kept coming back to that. He had to keep her safe.

  When the coffee had perked and she’d warmed cinnamon rolls in the microwave, they sat down at the table. Nick waited until he thought she had settled down to something approaching normal before bringing up what had happened. He didn’t want to point out what could be the reason for tonight’s activity, but he couldn’t neglect to warn her of the possibility, either.

  “Okay, now. Someone wants something that is in this house. He’d tried to break in before you came. But now, you’re in the way of him finding it. He can’t very well break in during the day because someone would see him. So we have to consider the fact he might be trying to get rid of you first.”

  Macy stared at him, looking shocked. “Me? You think someone tried to get in...to kill me?”

  He nodded and she stared at him, mouth open. Finally she said, “I suppose you could be correct. Which only shows I’m on the right trail. That someone else must have killed my mother.”

  “Possibly. And then again, maybe it has nothing to do with your mother. We don’t know who or what is involved at this point, and we can’t jump to conclusions. Why don’t you go to a motel for the rest of the night? I don’t want to leave you here alone.”

  “I won’t be alone. I’ll call Hilda. She said she’d come anytime I needed her.”

  Nick nodded. “Call her now.”

  Macy frowned at him. “No, I’m not calling her. I just said that to make you stop. I will not have you making decisions for me.”

  “I’m not trying to make decisions for you. I’m trying to keep you alive. You might show some appreciation.”

  She got to her feet. “I think you’d better leave.”

  “I think so, too, before this goes any further. You follow me to the door and make sure it’s locked.” He whirled and left the room, leaving her to trail along behind him.

  She stopped at the door, looking up at him, as if regretting the way she had acted. He gazed down at her and his heart clenched. “Look, Macy, something serious is going on, but right now we don’t know what. It started after you arrived and it seems to be centered on you.”

  She stared up at him, mouth open and eyes wide, her expression revealing just how vulnerable she really was.

  He wondered if she could see how reluctant he was to leave. “I hate to go, but I have to. I don’t have a choice. Things are under control right now, but keep this door locked and don’t be too quick to trust anyone. You call me if anything doesn’t seem right.”

  He patted her shoulder, and she nodded. He repeated, “Anything. I don’t care how minor it seems. You call.”

  She gave him a shaky smile, and he turned and walked out to his car, hating to go. At least the alarm was working all right, and after he reported in at the station, he’d make it clear to Sam that he was concentrating on this neighborhood for the rest of the night.

  If anything else happened, he’d be here—to keep Macy safe. What he felt for Macy went beyond wanting to help her. He finally faced the truth. He was falling for her.

  TEN

  After he left Macy’s, Nick drove to the station to finish reporting about the break-in. Before he’d gotten downtown Sam was on the phone, demanding he check in. If he was in trouble, he had a good idea why. Macy Douglas.

  He couldn’t stop thinking about this case. And the way he felt more connected to the copper-haired woman than just wanting to solve the mystery. Yes, he wanted to find the persistent intruder, but his strongest desire was to free Macy from her past in that house. She would never be able to move on until she learned the truth.

  And ye shall know the truth and the
truth will set you free.

  The Bible verse flickered through his mind and he prayed it would work out that way. If the evidence proved Steve Douglas was guilty, he wasn’t sure Macy could handle it. She was so convinced of her father’s innocence there didn’t seem to be room for any other alternative.

  Nick also knew if she ever reached the place where she could move on, he wanted to continue being a part of her life. He’d never felt this way about a woman before, but Macy had walked into his life, into his heart, from the moment he had seen her in the shadowed yard of the old Douglas house. Everything had moved so fast, he still didn’t know how it had happened. He just knew that it had. And he wanted it that way.

  Sam glanced at him. “You get the problem at the Douglas house taken care of?”

  Nick nodded. “Someone tried to break in and it set off the alarm.”

  “Any idea who it was?”

  “No one saw anything and evidently he ran off before I got there. But there were scratch marks on the door and the alarm alerted the neighborhood.”

  Sam leaned forward and folded his arms on the desk. “I’m getting a lot of pressure from Garth to back off with this Macy Douglas thing.”

  Nick eyed him for a minute. “Any idea why he would care?”

  “No, but I’ve been thinking. It happened a long time ago. No reason I can see for Garth to get all shook up over it. After all, it didn’t concern him then, and I can’t see why it would now.”

  Nick shook his head. “It did concern him. According to you and some others I’ve heard talking, it cost him the election. I’ve heard he took it pretty hard.”

  Sam nodded. “You’re right on both counts. But Steve was arrested for killing Megan. They’re both dead. So why’s he so upset now?”

  Nick hesitated, and then decided to bring it up. He had a hunch that was what Sam wanted. To get it out in the open. “Because Steve Douglas might not have been the real killer. Maybe it was someone else. Someone close to Garth Nixon.”

  “Or maybe even the guy himself?” Sam asked, one eyebrow quirked. “Is that what you’re thinking? You’ve been working on this behind my back, so let’s talk about it.”

  “I’m not ready to point fingers at any certain suspect, but someone is trying to prevent Macy from finding out anything about that night. So I’m guessing whoever it is has something to hide.”

  Sam nodded. “Sounds like it. You got anything definite to go on?”

  “No, but did I tell you someone left Macy a picture of her father wearing prison clothes and a threatening note stating that if she kept on with what she’s doing she’d deserve whatever she got?”

  Sam leaned back and crossed his arms. “Uh-huh. Seems like someone might be getting a little worried. I can see why. You get away with a crime for seventeen years and then someone comes along trying to end your party. Reason enough to worry, I’d say.”

  Nick eyed Sam. There had to be more to this little meeting. “So you think Garth might have something to hide?”

  Sam heaved a sigh. “I don’t have any idea. Thing is, Garth was good to me when I was in college. I didn’t have all that much and he gave me some money. Not a lot, but it helped. And he had a hand in getting me this job. Talked me up all over town.”

  “I see. So what are you going to do?”

  The police chief looked at him for a minute, then gave a resigned sigh. “Well, I didn’t want to get involved in this, but I can’t see a way out. I guess I’m going to do all I can to help you find out the truth. That’s the oath we took and it’s the job we do. I don’t want to live with the knowledge that I let a killer walk free, even if it turns out to be someone who did me a favor.”

  Nick nodded. “I’m thinking we’ll get it done, too. You can only hide murder for so long. After a while people start talking.”

  Sam picked up a ballpoint pen and examined it before looking up at Nick. “Okay, we’re in, even if it ends up costing us our jobs. And it very well could.”

  * * *

  Macy parked in front of Benson and Associates and sat staring at the front of the building, running over the list of questions she wanted to ask Raleigh Benson, and wondering if she could trust his answers. Finally she got out of the car and approached the building. The young, dark-haired receptionist smiled at her, large golden hoop earrings swinging against her cheeks. “May I help you?”

  “I’d like to see Mr. Benson, please.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No, but ask if he can talk to Macy Douglas for a few minutes.” What would she do if he said no? Surely he would want to see her, try to talk her into leaving town if for no other reason, since that seemed to be a personal quest of his.

  The receptionist came back, smiling. “Mr. Benson will see you. Right down that hall, first door to the right.”

  Macy paused in the doorway of the office. Raleigh sat behind a large oak desk with matching oak bookcases on either side of the window. He looked at her, his eyes narrowed so all she could see was a suspicious gray glint.

  “Miss Douglas?”

  “Good morning. Mr. Benson. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need to ask you something. Since I’m new in town, I don’t know very many people, and you were my grandmother’s attorney.”

  He bent his head in agreement, but didn’t say anything.

  Macy took a deep breath and continued. “It concerns my father’s newspaper business and my mother’s dress shop. Since they’re both deceased, whatever happened to their property?”

  Raleigh Benson stared at her for a minute, then he said, “Your father’s name was on the dress shop title along with your mother’s. He had it put on the market and it sold right away. The proceeds paid for his lawyer. The newspaper was sold by the bank to pay off his debts. The house, by the way, was free of debt, and since Opal soon moved in and lived there, it remained in the family.”

  Macy sat silent, trying to take all of this in. Her mother’s business was sold to pay for her father’s lawyer? Something occurred to her. “Who was his lawyer?”

  Again Raleigh didn’t answer right away. Finally he said, “I was.”

  This was the man who had supposedly defended her father? What kind of job had he done? “So I’m guessing you charged a good-size amount for your services, even though your client went to prison.”

  He answered forthrightly enough. “I only charged for the time I actually put in working on the case. If you’re thinking I cheated your father out of any money, I can assure you that’s not true.”

  “I want to see the papers concerning both transactions. Where will I find them?” She waited to see what he would say. Had he handled the sales of the properties? She hadn’t thought of that earlier.

  He kept eye contact with her, his expression set in granite. “I’m getting the idea you don’t trust me.”

  Right. He could bank on that. At the moment, she could count on the fingers of her right hand the names of the people she actually trusted, and Raleigh Benson wasn’t one of them. “I haven’t been overwhelmed with people welcoming me to town, and the comments about my father, and about me, haven’t exactly inspired trust.”

  He moved a small bronze paperweight of a pacing lion a few inches to the right. “I know it probably seems strange to you, but people in this town have long memories. I realize it’s been seventeen years, but for some of us, it’s as alive as if it were yesterday.”

  Macy eyed him thoughtfully, wondering where he stood in the fracas. Did he support her father or did he believe Steve Douglas was the murderer, and how much would that have affected the way he defended his client?

  Raleigh rested his arms on the desk and leaned toward her. “You know, you look a lot like Megan, and I’d guess you have her fire. She was a good businesswoman, owned one of the better shops in town, and she was free from debt. I have a hunch she’s the one who paid off the house you’re staying in. Steve liked money and what it could buy. He wasn’t interested in saving it, though.”

  Macy bit
back the words she wanted to say. This wasn’t the time to let her resentment of his derogatory comments about her father get in the way of trying to pry information out of him. He had known them both. Surely he would have had some idea of what had happened that night.

  “I don’t remember anything about either of them or what they were like.” Every time she said those words they hurt just a little bit more, no matter how many times she repeated them.

  Raleigh looked surprised. “Nothing? You don’t remember anything at all about them?”

  Was that compassion she saw in his eyes? Not something she would have expected from Raleigh Benson. “I have dissociative amnesia. I’m hoping living in that house will jog my memory and help me recall something...anything...about them.”

  “I see.” He looked thoughtful. “That would make a difference, wouldn’t it? You were there. Knocked out and lying at the foot of the stairs. But you have no recollection of what happened? Amazing.”

  She changed the subject. “You were my father’s attorney. Just how hard did you work at trying to save him, anyway?”

  He looked at her for a minute before nodding. “I knew from the first time you walked into this office you would be trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble?”

  “Stirring things up again. Look, I did my best for Steve, but we lost. That’s all I have to say about it.”

  “You mean you won’t answer any more questions?”

  “Not at this time.” He glanced at his watch. “Now, if you will excuse me, I have an appointment due in a few minutes. I’m afraid I’ll have to bring this conversation to a close.”

  Macy wanted to refuse to be dismissed like this, but then she reluctantly rose. “Very well, but I may have some more questions later.”

  He didn’t answer, just stared at her. She shrugged and walked out of the room. She had a curious feeling, as if she’d said something closer to the truth than she had suspected, and he was wondering just how much she knew.

  That afternoon she was sitting on the porch about an hour before dark when Nick drove in. She hadn’t heard from him all day, which was unusual.