Share No Secrets

by Carlene Thompson

  “If you were as smart as you think you are, young man, you would have kept your mouth shut,” he said in a low, dangerously affable voice. “After all, if you think I’ve murdered once, even twice or three times to protect myself if you count Claude Duncan and Margaret Taylor, then what’s to stop me from doing it a fourth time?”

  Gavin couldn’t believe it. His damned car wouldn’t start. He sat in the parking lot of The Iron Gate in his one-year-old $70,000 Jaguar XK, turning the key again and again only to hear click, click, click. The battery was dead. Or maybe the alternator was shot. He opened the hood, but he really didn’t know what he was looking at. He got back in the car and thought. All the local garages were closed at night. He could probably get Ralph from R & R Auto Repair to help him out but he didn’t have his cell phone with him, and he wasn’t about to slink back into the restaurant after his dramatic departure to make a call. Finally, he decided the car would be safe in the parking lot until tomorrow, and he would walk back to the house only four blocks away.

  Although Ellen had retreated to her bed at seven o’clock with a migraine, Gavin had intended to be home by nine. Instead, he’d lingered at the bar until quarter to ten. Now he’d be even later because of the car trouble and the walk. He wasn’t sure if Ellen would still be awake and angry that he’d deserted her, although when she had one of her headaches, she claimed just talking made her feel worse, and she banished him to a guest room for the night. Still, she usually wanted to know that he was in the house, fretting over her. Yes, if she were awake, she would be furious with him. But for once, he didn’t care if she was furious, didn’t dread a scene, had no intention of even checking up on her when he got in.

  The night had a dark velvety feel, soft and warm and caressing. A light breeze occasionally sent gauzy clouds skittering across the moon and whispered in the leaves of large, old trees lining the sidewalk. Normally, an evening like this would have stirred a romantic nostalgia in Gavin, a memory of his youth when he still hoped that someday the love of a glorious woman would turn him into a glorious man. Julianna had revived that wonderful hope, but it had ended too soon and too horribly for him to even think about without feeling like a blade had pierced his stomach.

  But now he wasn’t thinking about the beauty of the night. He wasn’t thinking about when he was young and there’d been a lovely dark-haired girl he’d thought might be the One. He wasn’t even thinking about the hassle of getting his car out of the restaurant parking lot and finding someone to fix it as soon as possible. He was only thinking of that little ferret, Bruce Allard.

  Gavin was astonished by how he had let that spoiled nitwit lead him, fool him, bait him. He couldn’t have helped having Bruce sit down beside him, but he could have quickly finished his own drink and left, not sat there allowing himself to be manipulated by an arrogant young jerk who thought he was smart and cagey, but who didn’t know a damned thing.

  Except how to adroitly lure me right into that outburst, Gavin thought glumly. By tomorrow, half the town would have heard an exaggerated version of the scene that had

  Gavin Kirkwood clearly, undeniably, viciously threatening Bruce Allard’s life! A little groan escaped Gavin. What would be the repercussions of that rumor? What would be the repercussions of there having been an altercation at all? Exactly how sick was he of always worrying about any repercussions?

  Around one hundred feet ahead and across the street, Gavin saw with relief the carriage lamps glowing atop brick columns that marked the entrance to his driveway. The four drinks he’d had at the bar had finally kicked in, slowing his walk, causing him to take the overly careful steps of an old man. And he felt dizzy. Only a bit, but enough to be a nuisance like a mosquito buzzing in his ear. He should have eaten dinner. Instead, he’d drunk all that whiskey on an empty stomach. Maybe having a sandwich when he got home would help. A hearty sandwich, two aspirins, and a B complex vitamin. Hadn’t he read that B complex helped with hangovers? And a big glass of water. Water with lots of ice …

  He stepped off the curb and began meandering across the quiet residential street, his thoughts consumed with the makeshift meal he’d soon fix for himself, his gaze focused on his feet that he couldn’t seem to stop lifting too high.

  Headlights snapped on, sending beams down the street, catching him directly in their glare. Gavin blinked and turned away his face. Dammit, didn’t the driver realize he had on his high beams? Gavin picked up speed to get out of the idiot’s way, then suddenly realized the idiot was picking up speed, too. An engine throbbed louder with growing momentum, and tires spun relentlessly over smooth concrete.

  Gavin looked back just in time to see a dark form behind the wheel—almost leaning over the wheel as if in anticipation—before the front bumper hit his lower legs, and the grill crashed into his thighs. For a moment he felt as if he were flying then careening downward, his left hip striking the car’s hood, his shoulder smashing against the windshield. The car never slowed and Gavin lay splayed across the front of it for nearly forty feet before a piece of his shirt that had tangled on a windshield wiper tore loose, allowing him to roll off and have his right ankle snapped by a steel-belted radial tire.

  The car sped on, leaving Gavin lying limp in the street as the velvety, romantic night closed around him.

  SEVENTEEN

  1

  “My God, Kit, that’s terrible!” Adrienne exclaimed. “How badly is Gavin hurt?”

  “Broken hip, broken ribs, broken collarbone, shattered ankle. He had a concussion and the vision in his right eye is blurry. At least the doctor expects that to clear up fairly quickly. The rest of the stuff …” She sighed. “He’s in bad shape.”

  Kit sounded almost, no, definitely upset. And the circles around her eyes said she’d been up all night. Adrienne was astounded not only that Gavin Kirkwood had been nearly killed by a hit-and-run driver, but also that his longtime nemesis Kit seemed to care so much. She’d arrived at Adrienne’s ten minutes ago dressed hurriedly in jeans and a blue satin blouse, and requested a quick chat and a cup of “real” coffee before she had to go back to the hospital.

  “How is Ellen taking it?” Adrienne asked as she poured Kit’s second cup of coffee and also handed her a blueberry muffin, which Adrienne was starting to consider her piece de resistance in the kitchen. “Mother was home with a headache when it happened,” Kit said through a mouth full of muffin. “Adrienne, this is delicious! I might start having you make some for the restaurant. Anyway, Mother had taken her migraine medicine and no one could rouse her. I used my house key to get in. She was too groggy to understand at first” She paused. “I’ll need another muffin.”

  “I thought you weren’t hungry.”

  “My stomach thinks different Anyway, Mother seemed okay at first, then fainted when we got to the hospital. Her breathing was bad, her color was awful, so now there are two patients in the family. Mother is in the room next to Gavin’s. The only physical problem with her is strain put on her weak heart, but Gavin’s physical state has certainly knocked the emotional stuffing out of her. I don’t think she’s issued an order all day. She just stares at the television and says ‘It’s my fault'”

  “Does she mean Gavin’s accident?”

  “It wasn’t an accident”

  “Okay, the attempt on his life. Why would someone trying to kill Gavin by running him down in the middle of town be her fault?”

  Kit shrugged. “I don’t know. Anyway, I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to come to the gala tonight”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. And you didn’t have to come here to explain. You look like you’ve been up all night.”

  “I have, but I couldn’t sleep even if I had the time. After finding that photo of Trey yesterday morning, though, I wanted to check on you in person so I could really see if you’re all right”

  “I am, considering all that’s been happening. So far, Lucas hasn’t been able to come up with any answers about the picture, though.”

  “No one at
police headquarters jumped up and confessed to raiding the files?”

  “Not a soul, even though Lucas said he has an idea who might be responsible. He won’t tell me whom he suspects. Of course, he’s not in peak form with his injury. I know he’s in pain, although he won’t admit it” Adrienne closed her eyes briefly. “In the last two weeks, the world has turned bizarre, Kit I think I’m becoming almost numb to the shocks.”

  “You’re far from numb, sweetie,” Kit said. “Where’s Skye, by the way?”

  “At her friend Sherry Granger’s. I have to be at the French Art Colony in about an hour to help with preparations, and she didn’t want to spend the whole afternoon there. Since the Grangers are attending the gala tonight, Louise Granger suggested Skye spend the afternoon there and come with them. Considering all that’s been happening around me lately, I think my daughter is safer in other people’s company. And that’s a terrible thing to have to admit.”

  Kit reached out and touched Adrienne’s hand in an uncharacteristic gesture of affection. “I know it is. Listen, Adrienne, I don’t want to spook you on your big night, but you’re right. You’re not out of danger and neither is your daughter. That’s why I think that after tonight, you should leave town. I know you’re worried about your job, but Mother has lots of influence. So does your brother-in-law, if just once he’d ever do anything for you instead of for himself.”

  Adrienne glanced down. “You think I’ve been irresponsible for staying here so long.”

  “You could have been killed at Lottie’s cabin,” Kit said softly. “Where would that have left Skye? Adrienne, you’re the best mother in the world. But you’ve gotten yourself into a panic over your job, over not having enough money to support your daughter, and that’s caused you to take risks. I’m partially to blame for not offering you the money to leave town, but I didn’t think you’d take it.”

  “I wouldn’t have.”

  “You’re like Lottie and I respect your principles, but you have to accept help from someone—if not me, then Vicky—and stop being brave.”

  “You mean being an ass.”

  “Well … yes. What happened to Gavin wasn’t a random hit-and-run, which only proves this mess is far from over.” Kit’s grip tightened almost painfully on Adrienne’s hand. “So be careful, tonight, Adrienne, and then leave. Take your daughter and get out of this town for as long as it takes. If you don’t, you’re risking both your lives.”

  2

  “Thank heavens, I finally I got things under control in the restaurant,” Kit exclaimed as she rushed into her apartment, slamming the door behind her. “Now it’s back to the hospital for afternoon visiting hours. I’ll make my visit short, though. Then we can spend some time together.” She stopped. “What’s going on?”

  Miles Shaw stood in front of her in the living room, a leather suitcase sitting beside him, a canvas tote slung over his shoulder. “I’m leaving tonight, Kit”

  “Leaving?” she repeated slowly, then smiled in relief. “Oh, going back to your apartment That’s not necessary. You’re not crowding me.”

  “I’m not going back to my apartment I’m leaving town.”

  “Leaving town?” She blinked at him. “Where are you going? Why?’

  “I can’t answer either one of those questions. You’ll just have to take my word for it that I have to go.” He smiled. “Kit I really appreciate you giving me sanctuary after Margaret got killed and the police were breathing down my neck, but—”

  “Giving you sanctuary? Is that what this was about?”

  “Ummm … mostly. I told you that when I asked if I could stay with you. Maybe I didn’t use those exact words …”

  “Maybe you didn’t? You sure as hell did not use those exact words.” Kit’s voice rose along with her color. “You didn’t use words even close to those. You used words like ‘You’re the only person I trust’ and “I need you more than I ever realized.'”

  “Enough,” Miles said, wincing as he raised his hands in a gesture for silence. “I was pretty out of control. Maybe I implied things I shouldn’t have.”

  “Like telling me Margaret had been one of many stupid dalliances after Julianna left you and now you realized that you wanted to be with someone you really cared about? Someone like me?”

  Miles was beginning to look cornered. “Kit, you know you mean the world to me. You always have. It’s just that I have to get out of town.”

  “Why? You have an alibi for the time of Margaret’s death.”

  “Yes, but there’s another reason. One I can’t tell you.”

  “You always play the mystery man, Miles.” Her voice began to tremble. “You’ve been divorced from Juli for years. Now she’s … gone. And I know you didn’t love Margaret. I thought finally we had a chance.”

  “Maybe we do. Just not now, Kit. Please let me go without the memory of you clinging and begging and haranguing.”

  “Clinging, begging, and haranguing? Is that how you see me?”

  “Well, yeah. It’s what you’re doing now. Have a little faith in me, Kit.”

  “Faith in you? Why should I have faith in you?”

  “Because you love me?” She stared at him. “Because you do love me, Kit. I know it. And because you’re a strong woman with a lot of pride.”

  “I thought I was clinging.”

  Miles briefly closed his incredible green eyes. “I can’t have this argument with you, Kit. I’m not going to have it. I’m leaving. I’ll get in touch with you later. I promise.”

  He leaned forward to give her an obligatory kiss, but she pulled away. He saw tears in her eyes—tears shimmering over intense fury. He strode past her and out the door.

  As Miles dashed down the back steps from her apartment, he could feel her at the window, still watching him. He thought about turning and giving her a wave, but he didn’t know if she’d find it encouraging or insulting. He really didn’t want to make her even angrier. Or to hurt her, but he had to leave. Tonight.

  There was only one thing he had to do first.

  3

  “Don’t drink all the refreshments, Adrienne,” Miss Snow ordered. “After all, we are expecting quite a few guests tonight. We want to provide a wide variety of beverages and plenty of each kind. It would be so embarrassing to run out.”

  “I’m sipping a bottle of Coke I brought from home, not sucking the punch bowl dry,” Adrienne returned irritably. She’d been working at the French Art Colony for three hours under the direction of Miss Snow, and the strain was getting to both of them. Two other people had arrived to help prepare for the gala, but Miss Snow made it obvious she found them below snuff. And Miles Shaw had neither shown up nor called, which caused Miss Snow tremendous distress she tried to hide by making excuses for him. Adrienne had often wondered if Miss Snow’s pristine mind had made room for one object of erotic fantasy—Miles. She clearly adored the man. Adrienne was certain Miles knew. Miles always knew which women he had power over, and he used it shamelessly.

  Miss Snow looked at the locket watch hanging over her flat chest. “The gala will start in less than two hours. The display rooms are now closed while the judges make their decisions.”

  “I know,” Adrienne returned. “That’s why I retreated to the kitchen.”

  “I would suggest you retreat to your home and change clothes. You’re certainly not wearing that, are you?”

  Adrienne looked down at her jeans, T-shirt, and scuffed white running shoes. “Why, yes. I picked out this outfit especially for tonight.” Miss Snow scowled. “I’m not going all the way home to change,” Adrienne said patiently. “I told you that I have my clothes in my car. I’ll freshen up in the bathroom.”

  “You’re going to take a bath in there?”

  “A quick shower. That’s what the shower is for. I promise to clean the bathroom thoroughly before the guests arrive. I just don’t want to go home, then get caught in the evening traffic trying to get back here.”

  “Oh.” Miss Snow brightened. “Th
at means your daughter won’t be attending.”

  “Yes, she will.” Miss Snow looked so crestfallen that Adrienne took pity on her. “Of course, my brother-in-law, Philip Hamilton, and his family will be attending, too,” she reminded the woman.

  Miss Snow had obviously forgotten about Philip in her dismay over Miles Shaw’s absence, but the mention of his name brightened her right up. “Oh, yes, Mr. Hamilton. How lovely it will be to have him here.” Along with his money and the press coverage his attendance would bring, Adrienne thought sourly. “You know, I was great friends with his Great-aunt Octavia.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me.” Miss Snow looked at her sharply, not sure whether or not she was being insulted. She was, but Adrienne didn’t want to completely alienate the woman even before the evening began. “From what I’ve heard, Octavia was a lady of taste and refinement.”

  “Oh my, yes,” Miss Snow tittered. Her eyes took on a glow of remembered bliss. “Once we went to the opera together. It was one of the most stimulating evenings of my life.”

  What a humdinger of a life you must have had if opera with that disdainful, dry stick of a woman Octavia Hamilton was a highlight, Adrienne thought sadly, but managed a smile. “I think I’ll give my daughter a call.”

  “Why don’t you call the Hamiltons too and make sure they know what time the gala is starting. I’m thrilled that they are attending. I wonder if any of the paintings will appeal to Mr. Hamilton?” she mumbled, dashing off to make sure the gallery was in tip-top shape for the arrival of what she obviously considered royalty.

  Adrienne called Skye and was surprised when Vicky answered Skye’s cell phone. “Skye’s here with us,” Vicky said cheerfully. “She and Rachel are playing tennis. Skye left her phone on the kitchen counter so I just picked it up when it rang.”

  “She’s supposed to be at the Granger house,” Adrienne said sharply.

  “It seems Mr. Granger is having heart pains. Or what he thinks are heart pains. His wife is beside herself and she brought Skye here so she and her daughter could hover by the dying husband’s bedside throughout the afternoon and night. The girl seemed really bummed out, as Rachel would say.”