by Jen Talty
“I had a relationship with Roberta Wilson.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We dated, but then she hooked up with Rutherford.”
Blaine wasn’t completely incapacitated yet. He considered himself a good judge of character, and Hadley Danks was lying. “So, you never slept with her after she married Rutherford?”
Hadley let out a chuckle. “I might be somewhat of a ladies’ man, but I don’t go after ‘taken’ property.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Look, I know what you’re getting at, so let’s just cut to the chase. I’m not Kaylee’s father.”
“How do you know? They got married because Roberta was pregnant.” Blaine didn’t move a muscle, but Hadley shifted.
“So did Jack and Linda Hicks, but no one ever talks about them, God forbid. If you must know, Roberta didn’t want me, she wanted Rutherford, and she made that clear the day she married him.”
“Are you sure you’re not Kaylee’s father?”
“She’d had to have been pregnant for about eleven months for me to be Kaylee’s father,” Hadley said.
“Any idea who it could be?” Blaine asked.
“Are you suggesting that whoever killed Rutherford could be Kaylee’s biological father?”
“Not suggesting anything, just trying to investigate a murder.”
“Damn.” Hadley rose and rubbed a hand across his face. “Rutherford never really talked about Kaylee’s paternity. He never wanted anyone to know.”
“Do you know when he found out for sure?”
“When she was about six and got real sick. Something about learning their blood types weren’t compatible and he couldn’t be her father.”
The spots dancing about the room intensified. Blaine took a deep breath and blinked twice. “Can you give me a list of anyone who might have had an affair with Mrs. Mead?”
Hadley nodded. “It’ll be a long list, and please don’t show it to Kaylee. I’m not sure she’d understand why some people would take advantage of a woman they knew was mentally incapacitated.” Hadley gathered his things. “Kaylee’s been like a niece to me, and I don’t think she needs that kind of pain in her life right now.”
The room spun when he took a tentative step on his wobbling legs. “She used to worry she’d end up just like her mother.”
“Schizophrenia is hereditary, but from what I’ve read, the loss of a child would’ve been a trigger for Kaylee. She seems fine to me,” Hadley said.
“I’ll be in touch.” Blaine pointed to the door and kept his feet moving toward the bathroom down the hallway. “See you later.” It seemed all the medication ever did was buy him some time.
After locking the bathroom door, he flicked the lights off and let his stomach empty its contents into the toilet. When the heaving stopped, he braced himself against the sink, taking in slow, calculated breaths. Cold sweat broke out around his hairline, and his body shook. A knock came at the door.
“Blaine? You in there?” Kaylee asked.
“Seriously? You know I have a migraine,” he muttered, finding a stick of gum in his pocket. “Grab my keys and meet me at the front door.”
“You sure?” Her voice was soft like an angel’s.
“Just do it, please.” He stiffened his back and rolled his neck. The lights waiting on the other side of the door would hurt, but he’d be home soon enough.
Holding his head high, he managed to make it through the station without too many gawks and stares. Suffering from migraines had always made him feel weak, but he did pride himself that not many people knew he got them. Or how bad they were.
Kaylee was waiting just outside the station.
“My truck.” He slipped his dark sunglasses on. They didn’t really keep the sun out, but it was better than nothing. “Just take me home so I can sleep this off.”
Kaylee struck a match, then lit everything she could find in Blaine’s room that resembled a candle or incense. She never thought these types of remedies did anything other than smell like a mix of pine and smoke, but if he thought it would ease his discomfort, well, she’d light the house on fire.
“Thanks,” he mumbled when he slipped off his boots and pulled the covers over his bare chest. The lines on his usually flawless face looked as if someone had etched them with a small, sharp object. He curled himself on his side; his eyes were closed, but he didn’t look peaceful.
She eased her way down the staircase, pausing at the third step from the top. A lump caught in her throat as she raised her hands to her stomach. The memories of falling and feeling like something had ripped apart inside overwhelmed her.
“Deslin,” she whispered, remembering his faint cry. His tiny hand could barely grasp her finger as he struggled to breathe. There was nothing anyone could do to save him, but the doctors were wrong about the pain. It never went away, and it didn’t get any better.
Once in the kitchen, she got herself a soda, made a light sandwich, and decided to sit on the porch. The sun had crept behind the mountaintops, creating an orange glow in the sky. It was cool, but somehow her body had become numb to it.
Knowing Blaine could be out for the night, she figured she might as well map out her life over the last few weeks, leaving names out, of course. The name Nino De Luca probably didn’t mean anything to the average citizen of Thief Lake, but a hotshot lawyer would probably know of him, or at least his family.
A horn honked just as a red BMW convertible pulled into the driveway. Kaylee set her dishes aside, trying to put a pleasant smile on her face.
Rachael Hicks waved frantically as if they were long, lost sisters. In a way, they were. Rachael wore dark-green slacks, a nice off-white blouse, and her hair flowed straight to her shoulders. Rachael had always had impeccable taste, going with what was in style.
Kaylee glanced at the fancy car. Didn’t Rachael know that convertibles were supposed to be driven in the summer, not days where snow loomed overhead?
“Kaylee!” She bolted from the car, but she closed the door like it was her little baby. At least she knew how to treat the car. “I couldn’t believe you were here! And oh, God, I’m so sorry.”
“Shhh, Blaine’s sleeping.” Kaylee met her halfway down the stairs with open arms. Kaylee never understood her connection with Rachael. It seemed no matter how hard they tried to piss each other off when they were kids, they always remained friends.
“Sleeping? Why the hell would he be sleeping? He’s got a killer to catch. God, I can’t believe someone would want to kill Ruther…your dad.” Rachael’s dramatics hadn’t changed one bit. Her face contorted, and she wrinkled her nose like this was the end of the world.
“Maybe because he’s been up trying to find out who killed my father since it happened.” Kaylee wanted to laugh out loud when Rachael’s mouth opened, but no words came out.
“Can’t we go in and talk? I’ll be quiet.”
“You don’t know how to be quiet.” Kaylee laughed, like they’d been heaved back in time.
Just then Shima walked out on the patio. “Hi, Rachael. How are you this afternoon?”
“Hi, Mrs. Walker.” Rachael waved politely. “I’m good, and you?”
“I’ll be better when I know we are all safe again. I just spoke with Police Chief Whitcomb.” Shima glided across the yard, dangling her keys in hand. “I understand Blaine had a long few days and is probably worn out. Why don’t you girls go talk in the house? I’ve got to run out for a bit.”
“Are you sure?” Kaylee asked. It would be nice to catch up with someone who wouldn’t drill her with accusatory questions.
“Oh, thank you.” Rachael took Kaylee’s arm. “It’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.”
“You two have a nice night, just lock up when you’re done.” Shima slipped into her vehicle.
“Oh, where do I begin?” Rachael started as she pulled Kaylee toward the house. “What brought you back here?”
“My father and I
decided it was time to mend the fence.”
“Really? My dad didn’t think your father would ever forgive you.”
“Forgive me for what?” Kaylee stopped on the back deck and stared at Rachael. “If this is going to be about bashing Blaine or about the fact my dad wasn’t my biological father—”
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that, but you did hurt your dad when you got pregnant and chose to marry Blaine, forgoing college. It’s such a nice night; let’s sit out here.” Rachael always said the wrong thing at the wrong time, but she meant well.
Kaylee sighed, then pulled out a chair and sat down, staring at the moon dancing in the darkening sky. “There’s a lot more to it than me and college. Dad didn’t like me questioning him about my birth father. He tried to pretend it never came out.”
Rachael plopped herself back in a chair next to Kaylee. “Can you blame him?”
“Yeah, I can. I told him it wouldn’t change me being his daughter, but he was too stubborn and too damn proud.” Kaylee brushed her hair behind her shoulders, but the wind swished it back.
“Sounds like someone else I know.” Rachael tilted her head.
“Oh, you’re one to talk. You didn’t speak to me for a whole month when I started dating Blaine.”
“You’re absolutely right, and I’m sorry.” Rachael looked Kaylee directly in the eye. “But I was sixteen, and I’d told you that I liked him.”
“I can’t believe we’re rehashing this.” Kaylee laughed.
“I’m long over it. I’m just so happy to see you.”
“Me, too.” Kaylee took Rachael’s hand in hers. “So tell me, what are you doing these days?”
“You know how much I like to talk about myself.” Rachael smiled.
“So, start bragging.”
“Let’s see…I’ve started my own little antique shop outside of town, and I’m dating this wonderfully handsome businessman from St. Paul.”
“Isn’t that kind of far?”
“The relationship is still new.”
“How long have you been seeing him?” It felt so good to talk about things other than the mob or a murder.
“Just a few months, but I really think this is the man for me. I’d even move the shop if he wanted me to.”
“I hope you get everything you want.” All Kaylee wanted was a chance to turn her life around, a chance to get out from under every single mistake she’d made. But right now, she wasn’t sure that was going to be possible.
“Does Blaine have any leads?” Rachael asked.
“I’m sure he does, but he’s got to keep all that stuff to himself.” No point in blabbing she was suspect number one.
“So, tell me. How is the dark man? Picking up where you left off?”
“Please, Rachael. There is nothing to pick up. Besides, I’m outta here as soon as I can clear up my father’s estate.”
“I see.” Rachael sat up straighter. “Thought maybe you’d stick around for a while.”
“I’m sorry.” Kaylee shook her head. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“You’ve never dealt with what happened between you and Blaine.” Rachael pointed a finger at Kaylee. “And don’t try and tell me otherwise.”
“Blaine and I were a long time ago.” Even if Blaine did still care for her, he’d never be able to see past her relationship with the mob.
5
The smell of burning wood filled Blaine’s nostrils, immediately soothing the dull pain still throbbing in his head, though nowhere near as bad as before. Careful not to disturb the already shaky balance in his system, he shifted to his back and then rolled his legs to the side of the bed.
He sat up, rubbing his temples. The headache would linger, and he’d be sensitive to light for the next few hours, but he knew he was well on the road to recovery because his stomach growled.
The clock he’d made in woodshop class as a teenager said it was after ten. The clock had been the first of many projects in crafting and building that won him a few awards and got him attention with some prestigious schools. Regardless of how talented he was, his heart belonged to protecting the people of this fine community.
He flicked on the reading lamp next to his bed, found a ponytail holder, and slicked back his hair. With his hands on the railing, he leaned over to look down at the family room.
“Kaylee?” He scanned the room, but there was no sign of her. “Kaylee? Where are you?” he called again. “Damn you,” he muttered. It would be just like her to run out while he was sleeping. It wasn’t like she hadn’t done that before.
When he heard an engine roar to life, he raced down the stairs and headed for the front door. As soon as he opened it, the bright lights from the car below momentarily blinded him, sending a sharp pain through his skull. When he got his hands on her, he’d wring her pretty little neck.
“Hi, Blaine,” an annoyingly familiar voice rang out.
He squinted, holding his forearm out in front of his eyes, trying to block the light. “Rachael? Turn the high beams off.”
He adjusted his vision once again, and a cool breeze kicked up, drawing his attention to the blonde hair flying in the wind. “There you are. I thought maybe you might be trying to run out again.”
A look of disgust quickly replaced the semi-smiles he’d been presented with moments ago. “Believe me, the thought has crossed my mind.”
“If she goes with you, I could arrest you for aiding and abetting.” Blaine waved his finger at a wide-eyed Rachael, who gasped.
“Kaylee, what’s he babbling about?” Rachael asked.
“He thinks I killed my father,” Kaylee said, deciding the entire town would find out soon enough anyway.
“That’s not what I implied, but we do have to cover every angle. And you!” He pointed his finger at Rachael. “Will not repeat any of this conversation to anyone if you know what’s good for you.” The last thing he needed were certain members of this town accusing him of mishandling this case. “Gossip doesn’t solve crimes, only leads to more of them.”
“Don’t worry,” Rachael said, but turned her attention to Kaylee. “You call me if you need anything, okay? I’ll always be there for you.”
Kaylee smiled and waved as Rachael’s bright-red convertible made a left hand turn out of the driveway. She took three stairs up toward the garage apartment.
“Kaylee,” he called softly.
She glared at him. “You had no right to talk to her like that.”
“Sorry,” he said. “Why did she come here?”
“Because she’s my friend.” Kaylee raised her foot, but paused mid-step when a car revved down the road.
“I thought you might have tak…” He watched a car whiz by, then skid to a halt and back up. “What the?” Blaine took a few steps toward her and squinted, noticing a shiny metal object sticking out of the window. “Get down!” he yelled as he lunged down the stairs toward a stunned, panic-stricken Kaylee. “Now!” He collided with her at the same moment three consecutive pops rang out in the night.
“Blaine?” Kaylee tucked her head in the crook of his neck, while her trembling arms wrapped around him as he lay on top of her.
“Go, Go!” a man yelled. Tires screeched on the pavement as the car sped off.
For a long moment, Blaine lay there, covering her body with his, while he held his breath until he was sure whoever had shot at them wasn’t coming back. A slow burn followed by a dull ache in his upper arm forced him to adjust his body to the side.
“You’re hurting me,” Kaylee whispered. Her warm breath came in short pants against his skin.
“Are you okay?” Alarm burst through his veins. He’d felt the ground vibrate from one bullet, not to mention the second one grazing his arm. “Lay still,” he said as he began checking her body for wounds. “Do you hurt anywhere?”
“I’m fine, I think.” She brushed hair from her face. “That was just backfire? Right?” Dirt was smudged on her face, and a purplish bruise was forming underneath he
r left eye.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly, brushing his fingers across her cheek. “That wasn’t backfire.”
“I didn’t think so.”
“Go up to the house and hit star one on the phone, that’s Dave’s line. Tell him what happened and that I need him here.” He helped her to her feet, making sure she wasn’t hurt.
“Blaine, you’re bleeding.”
He glanced at the small wound on his forearm. “Must have happened when I jumped you.” Wiping a small drop of blood away, he gave her a gentle nudge toward the house. “Go call Dave, please.”
She nodded and scrambled up the stairs, both her hands fisted at her lower back. Blaine grabbed a flashlight from the garage and started looking for the bullets. When the door clanked closed, he glanced at the garage apartment. What are you running from this time?
He forced himself to focus. There were three bullets in his yard somewhere, and he intended to find at least one of them. The cold, snowy muck squished beneath his bare feet as he moved methodically across the ground.
“Dave’s on his way. Can I help?” Kaylee’s voice sang out.
He shifted his gaze toward the steps where Kaylee stood on the landing, arms crossed around her middle.
“You can make me an egg sandwich. I’m famished.” For as long as they were together, she’d made fun of his inability to go without food for more than a few minutes. He hoped that giving her a mission to complete would take her mind off knowing someone had tried to kill her, because no one he knew of had reason to be shooting at him.
“You need some aspirin or something?”
He stared at the beautiful woman standing under the bright, starry sky with her hair gently blowing in the night breeze. She could still take his breath away.
“You okay?” she asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “Egg sandwich, please?” His chest tightened as she turned away. That woman knew how to sucker-punch him without doing one damn thing.
The sound of an engine coming down the street prickled his ears. He reached behind his back for his weapon. It wasn’t there. On tiptoe, he leaped behind the large tree just to the side of the garage.
