Harlequin Romantic Suspense March 2016 Box Set

by Carla Cassidy

  “Of course I don’t. He’s protecting me and the office. Right now he swears there’s no proof he was there, and if that’s true, it’ll die down. I have to trust that he didn’t leave a murder weapon behind and that if he had one, it’s long gone.”

  “Or at the bottom of the Susquehanna.”

  “You’re my kid, Cynthia, I’ll give you that.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Saturday morning Rio walked up to the Sneads’ trailer. The memories of being in the trailer park with Detective Bryce Campbell a few months ago when they’d been hunting the Female Preacher Killer flashed across his mind. The park had seemed mostly deserted then, but now he noted several more of the drab trailers had signs of inhabitants. Boots on the door stoops, flowerpots, a dog or two barking as he walked from his car to the trailer where the Sneads lived.

  He was greeted at the door by a man he’d met before. The man had been with the guy who’d refused to tell Rio and Bryce where a missing girl was.

  “Detective Ortega. I’m Justin Lacey, the Sneads’ attorney.” He held out his hand, which Rio shook.

  “Haven’t we met before?” Justin had been wearing a flannel shirt and his hair had been closely cropped in December. Now it was longer, slicked back, and he wore a cheap suit that was too big on his scrawny frame.

  “I don’t think so, Detective.” Rio wondered if the creep was trying to provoke him or was stupid enough to think Rio would believe him.

  “I think we have. In December. You were here when I was with a colleague looking for a missing teenager.”

  A spark Rio could only describe as wariness flared in the lawyer’s eyes. “You may be right. I’ve made a few friends in this area over the past few months. Not everyone can afford a slick lawyer and expensive fees. I’m happy to take on cases from people in hard times.”

  Rio figured Lacey’s cases amounted to little more than ambulance chasing, but he kept his opinion to himself. He could see the Snead family sitting on their sofa over Justin’s shoulder. “May I come in?”

  “Of course.”

  Rio sat in an easy chair across from Bill and Barbara Snead. Justin sat at the kitchen counter on a stool, a yellow legal pad at his elbow.

  “I’m here to find out what exactly you think you saw the night of the fire at Silver Valley Community Church, and to ask why you still believe it’s necessary to press charges against the chief of the Silver Valley Fire Department.”

  “We’re not pressing charges against one person, Detective. It’s the whole fire department, because they didn’t see what was coming.” Bill spoke with a sense of bravado Rio didn’t find impressive.

  “My clients almost lost their lives that night. If not for the grace of God, they wouldn’t be here to discuss this with you, Detective.”

  “Mr. and Mrs. Snead, if the SVFD hadn’t done their job in the outstanding fashion they did, many people could have lost their lives. As it is, no one died and few were injured, even minimally. I’m asking you to look in your hearts and realize you’re ruining the life and reputation of one of Silver Valley’s finest citizens. Keith Paruso is a firefighter and leader we need. He doesn’t deserve this hurtful charge you’ve filed against him.”

  “You don’t have to answer that, Bill and Barbara. May I remind you, Detective, that my clients have agreed to see you? They don’t have to talk to you or anyone on the Silver Valley payroll.”

  “Actually, they do. If you have witnessed something you’re not reporting about the fire or that night, I need it for my investigation.” He ignored Justin and addressed the Sneads.

  Bill Snead remained steadfast in his indignant expression, but Rio saw the slight tremor of Barbara Snead’s lower lip.

  “Mrs. Snead, is there something you need to say? You understand that public safety is what we’re talking about, not just your safety. If you know something I need to know, please tell me.”

  “I don’t know...” She pulled a tissue out of the sleeve of her sweatshirt, which was printed with flowers and birds, and wiped her eyes.

  “Just be quiet, Barb. We already told the police what we know and no one listened.” Bill Snead faced Rio. “Now people are listening.”

  “Barbara?” Rio stayed focused on the weak link.

  “I can’t do this, Bill.” Barbara Snead blew her nose loudly before she looked at the floor and spoke. “We’ve been having a hard time since our kids moved out west. When we decided to sell our house, we never knew it would go so fast. But we owed so much and needed a place to live for a short time. We moved here and that’s when we met Justin, who’s been so nice.” She looked at Justin, who was looking at his legal pad. “You’re just doing your job, son, but I can’t keep up this fight. I don’t believe in it. Bill, this isn’t who we are.”

  “Barbara, we’ve been through this. We’re representing the churchgoers who could have been killed in that fire!”

  “But they weren’t killed, Bill. We weren’t killed. We’re right here. And as much as we need the money, I can’t take money when we made it out of that burning building. No one else from church is filing any charges, just us. Don’t you think that says something?” She looked at Rio. “I think the fire chief is the one who helped me out. And I know it’s not his fault that no one knew about the gas bomb that the murderer had planted. I can’t have it on my conscience that we ruined a young man’s life, just because we were scared for a few hours.”

  “So you’ll drop your accusations?” Rio didn’t allow any sense of relief to grab hold, not yet.

  “Wait a minute, here.” Justin was watching a chance at a good chunk of money evaporate and it obviously wasn’t his best professional moment. “You two were certain you needed to do this. Remember, it’s not about you, but the whole church community. They were all put at risk unnecessarily. It’s about keeping Silver Valley safe.”

  “We’re dropping our claims, Detective. Mr. Lacey, we’re sorry but we can’t continue to work with you.” Looking at his wife, Bill Snead spoke for them both.

  “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Detective Ortega.” Justin’s bland face turned lethal as he spat the words. “This is bigger than you, bigger than the Sneads, bigger than Silver Valley Community Church. Certainly bigger than your local police force!”

  Satisfaction curled in Rio’s belly. He’d so obviously hit pay dirt. But Justin’s reaction wasn’t his concern; the Sneads were. They were whispering to each other and he hoped they’d woken up to the fact that they’d been bamboozled by this sleazebag.

  Because Silver Valley needed to work together to get rid of people like Justin Lacey, a True Believer front man. It wasn’t just about Rio being able to tell Kayla her brother was cleared of any wrongdoing, either. But if it helped her see that he was on her side, and was willing to change his job description to make her more comfortable with him, it had to be a good thing.

  But is it enough to win Kayla’s heart?

  * * *

  Saturday morning Kayla drove the van into the parking lot next to an old inn in a remote area of Central Pennsylvania almost an hour south of Silver Valley. The drive through the budding apple orchards didn’t soothe her spirit as it usually did. She was as tense as ever. Helping out Rio and SVPD wasn’t the problem. It was wondering if her motives were right. Of course she wanted to help clear Keith of the charges that were wrongfully stacked upon him. But was that all?

  You want Rio free to be with you.

  It was only natural, right? Rio was the hottest thing going in Silver Valley. She’d dated plenty but no one had impressed her enough to consider giving up being single, or committing to anything more than casual companionship.

  She’d been brought up with an international sensibility that at times left her feeling out of step with the locals. Silver Valley had been her home for almost ten years, since she’d graduated college.
In a town of over twenty thousand she’d never met a man as sexy or attractive as Rio. Or as stubborn.

  Grabbing her iPad and phone, she swung out of the van and looked up at the refurbished Serenity Inn. Built before the Civil War, it had additions from the Victorian era and a modern addition that was a few years old. Kayla had done two or three wedding receptions here and one celebration-of-life dinner. She did her own designs and decorations when the client’s budget allowed and the Serenity Inn was one of her favorites. As it was so far from Silver Valley, she didn’t get many jobs down this way.

  The front door opened with ease and she was grateful for the modernization that had added air-conditioning. The day was unusually warm and the humidity a killer.

  “Hello?” Since it was before lunchtime, the restaurant area was empty as she wound her way through to the back catering rooms.

  “Oh, hey, you must be the florist. Gloria told us you’d be coming. I’m Molly.” A short woman with beautiful black hair down to her waist greeted her with a smile. “I’m the events manager.”

  “Nice to see you again, Molly. I’m Kayla. I remember you from when I worked a previous event.”

  “Yes, now I remember. I’m sorry, we have so many things going on here. Didn’t you help out with the McCrumb funeral?”

  “Yes.”

  “That was something else. Your arrangements were stunning.”

  “Thank you. It was an honor.” It was always an honor no matter the budget, but the McCrumb family had spared no expense for the matriarch of their clan when she’d passed at one hundred and three. Letitia McCrumb’s passion had been roses, so it had been particularly challenging finding the right mix of blooms in the middle of January, when she’d died last year, but Kayla had been delighted to do so.

  “Well, Gloria should be here soon, along with the caterer. Would you like something to drink while you’re waiting?”

  “No, no, I’m fine.” Gloria hadn’t mentioned that Veronique was coming, but it was probably smart. Flowers and food needed to coordinate, too.

  “Okay, then, feel free to look around and brainstorm as needed. We’ll all sit down once Gloria gets here.” Molly walked out of the room and Kayla took in her surroundings. She hadn’t been in this particular room at the inn. The other events she’d handled had been smaller than the Charbonneau wedding was shaping up to be.

  Deep walnut wainscoting ran the perimeter of the long rectangular space. A banquet table sat in front of a huge antique tapestry that she’d bet was Belgian and very, very precious. She wrote notes about the main centerpiece and then counted the round tables in the room, thirty-two in all. Each seated eight and with the head table, there’d be over two hundred and fifty guests for the wedding dinner, a fraction of the rehearsal dinner number. She didn’t need the exact numbers, but Rio might. Kayla pulled out her phone and took several snapshots of the room to include the entrances and exits. More information for SVPD.

  “Why on earth would you need a photograph of that door?” Gloria’s query sounded right behind her and Kayla had to fight to maintain hold of her phone. Because of its large screen, Gloria had seen what she’d taken a photo of.

  “I thought you might want a garland around it, to make it less utilitarian in appearance.” She turned and found Gloria towering above her in patent red pumps and a zebra-print zip-front dress with a red patent belt. The woman’s hair was teased to within an inch of cracking from the weight of the hair spray.

  “Anyway, it’s nice to see you, Gloria. How was your drive?”

  Gloria waved her question away. “Fine, fine.” No doubt every drive in her Mercedes was “fine.” “But I’m stressed to say the least. Cynthia is insistent that she can’t move the wedding back any further and I have no idea how we’re going to pull this off in a week.”

  “I’ve planned weddings with far less time. And it’s nice that you’re having both the rehearsal dinner and wedding reception in the same place.” Her other short-notice weddings had been smaller, more intimate affairs, but Gloria didn’t need to know that. “It’ll all work out. Is something in particular bothering you?”

  “All of it. I hate having to rush a social function of any kind. I’m a detail person.”

  “We’ll make it work. Is Sylvia coming today?”

  “No, she’s manning the office for me.” Kayla noted that Gloria treated her position as the mayoral spouse as its own entity. If she were a governor’s wife, or the First Lady, it would make more sense. But Gloria didn’t seem to do much besides run social functions for the mayor. And screw his assistant.

  “Here you go.” Molly walked in with a slender woman next to her. Kayla immediately recognized Veronique, the chef.

  “Kayla, nice to see you again.”

  “Hello, Veronique.” During the previous event Kayla had worked with Veronique, she had been all sweetness during the planning phase, but turned into quite the witch during the actual production. When Kayla had brought the flowers in for the celebration-of-life dinner, she’d witnessed Veronique chewing out her sous chef to the point of tears, all because the onions for a sauce had been chopped instead of minced. Kayla didn’t consider herself a gourmet cook, but she knew her way around the kitchen and had helped her mother entertain large groups of diplomats. It was hardly ever important enough to fuss over such a small mistake in the kitchen. People came together to enjoy each other’s company and rarely remembered what they ate unless it was exceptionally good or horrifically bad.

  “Fine, let’s sit down, shall we?” Molly gestured to the closest round table and they all took their seats. Gloria made sure her phone was in front of her and Veronique pulled out a huge leather binder.

  “I have photographs for the menu selections.” She handed the book to Gloria, who opened it and started turning pages.

  “I like the idea of surf and turf. We’ll please all of our guests.”

  Veronique cleared her throat. “It is more costly, I have to tell you. A buffet line would be best at this short notice. You can’t be sure to hear back from everyone in time for a sit-down affair, and with the buffet setup we can do a few more dishes, and alternative desserts to the cake, to include gluten-free.”

  “Oh, but the cake is going to need to be gluten-free, didn’t I already tell you that?” Gloria cocked her head in a practiced innocence.

  Veronique puckered her lips as her fingers flew over her phone. “I do have that you asked for a gluten-free alternative...”

  “The wedding cake must be gluten-free. That’s nonnegotiable. That way all of our friends can enjoy it. So many are gluten-free these days.”

  “Any other food allergies I should be aware of?” Veronique was a professional and Kayla gave her credit. Gloria wasn’t the easiest client by far.

  And now that she knew Gloria was also possibly a coconspirator to murder and cheating on her husband, Kayla found her presence nauseating.

  “Are you paying attention, Kayla? Because the flowers are going to have to complement the courses.” Gloria’s brown eyes sparked with decisiveness and her perfectly manicured hands were folded in front of her. She’d tired of Veronique’s book.

  “Yes, got it.” Kayla looked at Veronique and waited until they made eye contact. “You and I can work together to make it happen.”

  “Yes, of course.” With an insouciant Gallic shrug, Veronique gave the impression of unflappability.

  Kayla felt as though her blood pressure was spiking and wondered what Molly would do if she pounded her fist on the table.

  “Things always seem overwhelming at the planning stage, don’t they? But I promise, once the day arrives it’ll go like clockwork.” Molly had to be a middle child considering how well she smoothed things over. “I’ll have my usual full staff of five along with six extras. We will all pitch in to make your daughter’s wedding reception the most beautiful occasion.
”

  “Cynthia’s a tough girl to please. Trust me on that.” Gloria sniffed, her patience obviously thin.

  “Cynthia was excited about the plans I’ve drawn up for the gazebo. Why don’t I bring them into the decor here? Veronique and I will make sure the courses coordinate.” Kayla noticed that Molly had gone quiet, allowing her and Veronique to handle Gloria. She didn’t blame her.

  “It’s the other way around, of course. The food first, then coordinate the flowers.” Veronique was showing a tiny sliver of the electric-eel part of her personality that Kayla had seen before.

  “You two work it out, I don’t care how. I’m certainly paying you enough to do so.” Gloria’s hands shook as she read something off her phone, her lips drawn in a tight thin line reminiscent of Cynthia’s persnickety attitudes. They might not be blood but the similarity was stunning. Kayla wondered what Tony Charbonneau’s first wife—Cynthia’s mother—looked like. Maybe an older version of Gloria? Mayor Charbonneau seemed to have a penchant for uptight, controlling women in his life.

  “Back to your original question on allergies, Veronique. There are to be no scallops anywhere in sight of the meal.”

  “We’re preparing lobster tails. Is that okay? They’re both shellfish.”

  Gloria shook her head. “I’m only allergic to scallops. Lobster is fine, and one of my favorites. Although it’s awfully messy for a wedding.”

  “No worries. My team and I will have them all split and ready to eat. No one will be cracking lobster shells at Cynthia Charbonneau’s wedding.” She gave a little flip with her hands, and combined with her French accent it made everyone laugh, albeit nervously. “I also thought it would be nice to have a seafood risotto on the brunch buffet table at your home, for immediately after the service. I plan to use shrimp and crab for that.”

  “That’s lovely.”