Colin pulled her back into the hallway. He placed his mouth next to her ear and murmured, “Let’s go downstairs and call the police. For all we know, they may still be inside.”
Tension mounted on the endless ride down to the lobby. Her thoughts swirled as though caught in the middle of a tornado. Every once in a while a fragment was tossed out, only to be snatched back into the whirling winds, nothing making any sense in the jumbled mess.
Dazed, she stood back and let Colin deal with the security guards, who made the call to the police. One of them went up to Derek’s apartment while she and Colin waited for the police to arrive. She sat on the couch in the lobby while Colin paced in front of her, the rhythmic sound of his footsteps punishing the tile floor from one end of the lobby to the other.
Had they found what they were looking for? For a brief moment Emma hoped they had. Then, her life could get back to normal—whatever that was. But that feeling only lasted for a few heartbeats before her anger took over. She wouldn’t let her brother die for nothing. Whoever did this would pay for the crime.
If only I could remember. If only I could see!
“Did you get much sleep last night?” Grace asked while walking from the sink in the kitchen to the stove.
Emma slouched over the table, propping herself up with her chin in her palm while taking a sip of coffee, strong but delicious. “No. Every time I closed my eyes I saw what Derek’s apartment must have looked like. Colin said just about everything was destroyed and trashed.” She shivered. “Such violence. I’m glad I didn’t see it.”
“Yeah, Colin called me this morning. He was pretty shaken up over the incident. Speaking of calls, you received several yesterday afternoon.”
Emma straightened. “I did. From whom?”
“Your father called several times.”
Emma’s heart plummeted. She didn’t want to deal with her father on top of everything else.
“Brandon McDonel and Marcus Peterson called, too. They all wanted to know how you were doing. They were concerned and hoped you would call them back.”
“I probably should call Brandon and Marcus back. I have to work with Marcus concerning my brother’s business and I need to find out about the irregularities J.T. suspects with the company. As my brother’s heir, I think I should have my accountant examine the books.”
“And Brandon?”
The curiosity in Grace’s voice coaxed a smile out of Emma. “He’s just an old friend.”
“Old as in sixty years old?”
“No, as in a longtime friend. We dated for a while. He was my brother’s roommate in college all four years. He works at a bank, just promoted to vice president. He’s come a long way from the south side of Chicago. Very smart man, driven to be president of Premier Bank of New York by the age of forty.”
“Will he make it?”
“Probably. He went to Harvard on a scholarship and graduated at the top of his class.”
“Do you want me to dial their numbers for you?”
“No, I can do it. Amber has been helping me practice using the phone. I’m getting quite good at it. By the way, when will Amber be over to help us with the cookies?”
“Right after school. That’s two hours from now.”
“Then I’d better get these calls made so I can be ready for my cooking lesson. I know Brandon’s number. What is Marcus’s?”
After Grace recited it, Emma scooted back her chair and rose, using the table as her starting point for making her way to the den, counting off the steps as she went. If she remained blind for much longer, she would need to check into getting a cane. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, but it might become necessary, as well as have some formal mobility training. She wanted to be as independent as possible, therefore she had to be realistic.
In the den, sitting on the couch, she found the phone and slowly punched in Marcus’s number. His secretary put her right through to her brother’s partner.
“It’s so good to hear your voice, Emma. I’ve been worried about you.”
“I’m doing as well as to be expected. I wanted to tell you that my accountant, Adam Moore, will be contacting you to look over the books for the company. Before I make any decisions concerning Derek’s estate, I need to know where everything stands.” She didn’t want to tip Marcus off about her and J.T.’s suspicions.
There was a long pause before Marcus said, “Sure. Have him call me. Is there anything else I can do for you?”
“No, I haven’t made many plans yet.”
“Are you thinking of remaining involved with the business?”
“I can’t make any decisions until after the audit and things are settled with Derek’s murder.”
“Sure. I understand. I’ll be expecting your accountant’s call.”
She quickly placed a call to Adam, directing him to audit the books immediately and get back with her as soon as he found out anything. She stressed the urgency of the matter. Then she picked up the phone for the third time and punched in Brandon’s private number at the bank. He answered it on the second ring.
“How are you, Emma? I wish you were back in New York.”
Hearing the familiarity in his voice, Emma released a sigh slowly before answering. “I don’t know when I’ll be back. Things are up in the air right now.” There had been a time when she would have welcomed his interest—not now.
“I want to help. What can I do?”
“Nothing right now.”
“I’m going to be in Chicago on business in a few days. I’d like to see you. I’ve missed you. I can come to Crystal Springs.”
The persuasive, husky tone in his voice reminded Emma of when they had dated. His charismatic charm, used so well in the past, left her cold. Her vague image of Colin popped into her thoughts as she listened to Brandon discuss when he could be in Crystal Springs.
“Call me when you’re in Chicago. I don’t know what I’ll be doing. So much depends on when my memory comes back completely, and also my eyesight.”
“That makes sense. How’s it going? I can imagine how hard it would be to have witnessed Derek’s murder and not remember a thing.”
“I’m remembering bits and pieces every day. I’m optimistic.” She had to be, because she was determined to remember who shot Derek.
“Good. I’ll give you a call after my meeting in Chicago.”
After she hung up with Brandon, Emma’s hand lingered on the receiver. She needed to return her father’s call, remembering Colin’s sermon from Sunday and the words in the Gospel According to Matthew.
For if ye forgive men their trespasses, your heavenly Father will also forgive you.
Could she make peace with her father?
Her hands trembled as she made a call to her father. Her body stiffened in anticipation of hearing his deep, graveled voice.
“I didn’t know if you would call me back, Emma.”
The uncertainty that imbued her father’s opening remark shook her. She’d never heard that from him. At a loss for words, she grappled with what to say.
“Emma, are you still there?”
“Yes, Dad.” A sigh came from him and further surprised her. “Was there a reason you called me?”
“Do I have to have a reason?”
“You always have in the past.”
“I just wanted to make sure you were all right and safe. The woman you’re staying with told me you’re doing okay, but I wanted to hear it from you.”
She nearly dropped the receiver and had to grip it tighter. “Her name is Grace Fitzpatrick,” was all she could think of to say.
“She informed me she’d been in the army and had taught self-defense. She assured me you were safe. I would still feel better if you were here in Chicago with me.”
The tears that were always so close to the surface lately sprang into her eyes. “I’ll be fine here. The sheriff has a patrol car coming by the house every hour, and when Colin isn’t working, he’s usually over at his aunt’s. I’m never
alone.”
“Colin’s the minister?”
“Yes.”
“He’s the one who hit you with his car.”
“Dad, don’t start. He saved my life. If he hadn’t been there, they would have finished me off.”
“Emma—I—” Her father cleared his throat. “I know how close I came to losing both my children. No parent should outlive his child. I’m sorry…” His voice faded into the silence.
For just a second it had sounded as though her father really loved her. “Dad?” Sadness and regret engulfed her. When he didn’t say anything, she asked, “Are you still there?”
“Yes, Emma.”
Those two words were heavy with an emotion she hadn’t thought her father capable of—love. Was it just wishful thinking or a real feeling? she wondered, afraid to ask for fear of the answer.
A muffled cough filled the void, then her father said, “I have to go. I’m late for a meeting. Please call if there’s anything I can do for you. You just tell me and I can have my security people down there in under thirty minutes.”
Emma could imagine the S&J helicopter swooping down on Crystal Springs and landing in Grace’s large front yard. “Thanks, Dad, for the offer, but I’m fine, really. I’ll talk to you later.”
After disconnecting, Emma sat on the couch with her shoulders slumped forward and her chin resting on her chest. She couldn’t remember a time her father had used the word “please” with her.
Lord, I’ve never prayed before. I’m not even sure how, but is it possible that my father loves me? Help me to forgive him and mend our relationship. Seeing Colin with his family only makes me want one, too. It’s always been just Der—Derek and me, with our parents on the fringes of our lives. Now with Derek gone, I don’t have anyone.
Emma buried her face in her hands, her fingers still quivering from the last phone call. So much of her life was falling apart around her, but in the center there was a light that seemed to grow brighter each day she was in Crystal Springs. Hope dangled before her, just out of reach—much like her lost memories.
“The recipe calls for another cup of flour,” Grace announced, thrusting a metal cup into Emma’s hand. “Here, measure it while I set the oven to preheat.”
“I don’t know how.” Even though she couldn’t see, Emma stared at the object cradled in her palm as though it were an alien artifact.
“The flour canister is right in front of you. Dip it in and fill it all the way to the top, then I’ll show you how to level the excess off.”
Emma glanced over her shoulder in the direction of Amber. “Is she always this way?”
The teenager laughed. “Afraid so. You could be stuck chopping up the nuts.”
“Hey, I’ll change jobs.”
“Girls, please. We have to bake three dozen in the next hour and a half. While I’m making the sugar cookie recipe, you can do the chocolate chip one. It’s really very easy.”
“Not if you can’t cook,” Emma shot back as she scooped the cup into the flour, patting the overflow until Grace touched her.
“You don’t pack flour.” She gave Emma a butter knife and helped her to level the ingredient to exactly one cup.
As Emma dumped it into the large bowl, the scent of flour teased her nostrils along with some of the other ingredients—vanilla and brown sugar. She’d never thought of the staples—sugar and flour—as having a smell, but then she had never used them to cook something.
“Now stir those dry ingredients together, then we’ll add them to the wet ones.”
“We…as in, you’re gonna help me?”
“I’ll add the dry while you use the mixer.” Grace opened a drawer then slid it close.
From the sounds the older woman was making she must be setting up the mixer. A few seconds later Grace placed something into her hand.
“That’s a rubber spatula. You’ll use it to scrape the sides of the bowl while the mixer is doing its thing.”
After positioning herself in front of the mixer, Emma stuck the spatula into the bowl and turned on the appliance. Grace began pouring the dry ingredients into the mixing bowl. The dough became harder and harder to combine.
“This isn’t easy,” she said, chuckling at the picture she must be projecting, especially with more ingredients on her and the counter than in the cookie dough.
“You still have to put the chocolate chips and the nuts in and mix them up.” Grace switched off the mixer and set the bowl on the counter. “The chips are in a bag to your right. Amber, are you through with the pecans?”
“Yeah.”
Emma sensed the teenager’s approach from the left. She was getting good at feeling people’s presence even when they didn’t make a sound, as though she were attuned to a change in the air. She couldn’t explain it but was glad she wasn’t always getting surprised when someone came near her.
When the dough was finished, Emma and Amber both spooned it onto two cookie sheets. The teen opened the oven and a hot blast of air hit Emma in the face. She decided she had learned enough that day and gave the first baking sheet to Amber to put into the oven.
Emma dusted off her hands, positive that flour was flying everywhere. In fact, she was sure she had it all over her. But she felt good. Her mouth watered in anticipation of tasting the first dish she’d made. The scent of baking cookies added to all the other smells bombarding her.
“You did good, Emma,” Grace said right before she turned on the mixer to prepare her dough. “Now all that’s left is the cleanup.”
“You mean little elves don’t come in and do it for you?”
“Ha! I wish,” Grace said, over the sound of the mixer.
“I’ll wash. You can dry.” Amber began stacking the dishes into the sink.
Emma listened to the activity around her and could tell what each one was doing by the sounds. She could even tell who was who by their scent. Amber liked to wear a light fragrance with a hint of lilac while Grace had on a perfume that smelled like a bouquet of roses.
Emma knew the second Colin came into the kitchen even though she hadn’t heard the front door opening or closing. His distinctive scent was fresh like the woods she’d played in as a little girl.
“What brings you over here?” Drying a metal mixing bowl, Emma smiled toward Colin as he crossed the kitchen, the sound of his footfalls indicating he wore tennis shoes.
“Baking cookies. Someone needs to be the taster before you two take them to the ladies meeting tonight. I volunteer. It’s a dirty job but someone’s got to do it.”
“Sorry, Dad. I’ve already got the job. Better luck next time.”
“So that’s why you hurried over here after school?”
The sound of a slap preceded Grace declaring, “Leave that cookie dough alone.”
“But you know how much I like it.”
Emma chuckled at the pout in Colin’s voice. “I have to admit I like it better than the baked cookies, too.”
“Here, Dad. You can lick this beater.”
“At least, my daughter looks after me.”
Listening to Colin’s obvious delight at cleaning off the beater, Emma laughed even more. “You’re definitely a loud eater.”
“Aren’t there two beaters?” he asked innocently.
“Sorry, Dad. I’ve already washed it.”
Colin snapped his fingers. “If I hadn’t answered the phone before leaving, I could have made it in time.”
Emma felt Colin move into her personal space. Her heart reacted with a quickening beat.
“Which brings me to why I came over here. J.T. called about what the police in Central City discovered concerning the break-in at your brother’s apartment.”
Emma tensed, the past hour of fun suddenly coming to an end. Life intruded, and even though she wanted to find Derek’s killers, for a brief moment she wanted the past hour back. She’d felt a part of a family and she liked that feeling.
“What did the police find?”
“Not much. They’re thin
king it’s a professional job since they had to get by the electronic security system, which we both know is a good one.”
“Obviously not good enough,” Grace said from the direction of the stove as she opened the oven door and the aroma of chocolate chip cookies intensified in the air.
“As you can imagine, the police aren’t sure if anything is missing.”
Emma leaned back against the counter, the day’s activities catching up with her. “And I can’t help them. I can’t see a thing!”
The feel of Colin’s hand on her arm conveyed his silent support as only he could. “Would you know what was missing even if you could see? You haven’t been in his place in a year.”
“Yes. Maybe.” She sank more against the counter. “I don’t know. But, at least, I could try.”
His fingers weaved through hers. “It will happen.”
“When? When the killers have escaped?”
“They may already be gone.”
“Because they found what they’re looking for?”
“It’s a possibility we have to face.”
She dropped her head, wishing she could see the tiles that Grace had told her were cream colored. “I’m not even sure we would know it if we saw it. What could be so important that my brother was killed for it?” She raised up her chin. “Don’t answer that. I know there are many things that people value more than a human life.”
“Sad, but true.” Grace came toward Emma and put something down on the counter next to the sink.
“When are we going to the meeting?” Emma asked, groping for the next item to dry.
“In a couple of hours. Why don’t you rest? I’ll help Amber finish cleaning up in here.” Grace took the towel from Emma and gently pushed her toward Colin. “See that she lies down.”
“Hey, you two. I can take care of myself.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Grace said in a serious tone. “But you can’t see yourself. I can, and you look tired.”
“Are you telling me I don’t look good?” Emma faced the older woman with her hands on her hips.
“Yup. That’s what I’m saying. I always knew you were sharp, Emma St. James.”
So Dark the Night Page 12
