She shook her head. “We talked about ghosts.”
If she’d thought he had given her a cold look before, she was mistaken. The temperature in the room dropped twenty degrees.
She’d better at least try to explain. “They wanted me to try to contact my father.”
“That crazy psychomanteum of theirs?”
“I guess.” She wished she could crawl under a rock. “I’m sorry for bringing up Charlotte. I just heard a voice and smelled that scent and my imagination went a little wild, I think.”
“A voice?”
She shook her head again. She didn’t want him to get the wrong impression. “On the radio. It was nothing. Like I said, just my imagination.”
His lips softened. “You’ve been through a lot. Don’t worry about it.”
His kindness did more to rattle her than even his anger. “I didn’t mean to…I’m going to go to bed now.”
He leaned toward her, as if he wanted to touch her but didn’t quite dare. “Let me help you.”
Help her go to bed? She knew that wasn’t what he meant, but another giggle bubbled up inside her, anyway. Fatigue. Hysteria. She choked it back.
Brandon didn’t seem to realize her struggle. He looked at her with that same concerned look. A look that made her want to curl up in his arms and cry.
Finally he let out a heavy breath. “There’s no reason you have to look into Edwin’s death alone. I know people. I can help.”
All she could manage was a nod.
“Has Hammer given you a copy of the accident report?”
“Yes.” She forced a word out. A miracle.
“How about the autopsy?”
“No.”
“What do you say tomorrow we go to Baltimore and have a talk with the medical examiner?”
“You can do that? I called, and his secretary or assistant or whatever gave me the runaround.”
“I’ll give him a call. He’ll make time.”
“Of course.” The world worked differently for Brandon than it did for her. There were perks to being a Drake.
“Like I said before, Edwin was important to me, too. Very important.” He gave her a controlled nod. “Tomorrow morning, then?”
Marie took a deep breath. The scent was gone. Even though the desire to touch Brandon still pulsed through her veins, she felt focused once again. Focused on her father, on finding his killer, on bringing his murderer to justice. As long as she could remember why she was here, she could handle the rest.
Even being around Brandon Drake. “See you tomorrow.”
Chapter Five
By the time Marie ate Shelley’s wonderful breakfast of crab benedict and rode to Baltimore in the quiet comfort of Brandon’s chauffeured car, she was beginning to understand just how different Brandon’s life was from her own. And when the Maryland medical examiner was actually waiting to talk to them, she knew accepting Brandon’s help had been the right thing to do.
Or at least she hoped.
She concentrated on the harsh disinfectant and repulsive fleshy smells of the morgue. Staff bustled through the halls clad in baggy scrubs, some wearing stiff long-sleeved aprons over top. The distraction didn’t work. She didn’t have to look at Brandon to feel him next to her. She didn’t have to smell the leather of his jacket to be aware of every move he made.
His almost black hair glistened in the fluorescent light. His black leather car coat accentuated his broad shoulders as if it were made for him alone. Of course, it probably was. Even his cane only played up the aristocratic air about him.
No wonder she’d fallen so hard when she was a teenager. Good thing she knew better than to trust the emotions he brought out in her now.
The medical examiner was waiting for them when they entered his office. An older man with skin that resembled a wrinkled brown paper bag, he motioned for them to take off their coats and sit in a pair of chairs facing the desk. Brandon made introductions, and Marie shook the man’s hand.
After the formalities were finished, Dr. Tracy started flipping through a pile of file folders lying on his bland, government-issue desk. “I’m sorry I haven’t had time to pull your father’s records from the recent cases. This will just take a second. Your town has been keeping us awfully busy lately, what with the state police excavation site.”
After reading the first few articles back in Michigan, Marie had avoided the story of the mass grave, even though it was in papers and on news channels all over the country. The whole thing was too upsetting. Too depressing. The thought that all those people were victimized just because they wanted a better life. The thought that a doctor who’d sworn to do no harm had forced them to give up organs in return for their passage into the country. The thought that many had given their lives through no choice of their own, their hollow shells dumped into mass graves.
She shuddered. “They caught the men responsible for that, didn’t they?”
“One is dead and now the other…” Dr. Tracy peered over his reading glasses at Marie, his hands still shuffling through a stack of reports. “You haven’t heard.”
“Heard what?”
“Franz Kreeger, the one who was jailed. They found him dead this morning.”
Brandon’s eyebrows dipped low. “Suicide?”
“I don’t know. But I guess I’ll find out.”
Marie nodded, realizing that what the doctor said was literally true. He would find out, personally. Or at least he would with the help of his staff. Just as his staff would examine each of the bodies buried outside Jenkins Cove. “Have they recovered all the bodies from the mass grave?”
He shook his head. “They’re bringing in new ones every day. Very old ones. Fresh ones. It seems like they’d need more than two men to do all that damage. Not that I’m speculating.” He pulled a file from the pack and set the others aside. Adjusting his glasses, he flipped open the folder. “Now, how can I help?”
She paused, waiting for Brandon to speak. Instead, he gave her an encouraging nod.
She cleared her throat. “The police told me my father’s death was an accident.”
“And you want to know if it really was?”
“Yes.”
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Can’t tell me?” Marie slumped against the back of her chair. How could that be? “Don’t you determine cause of death?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I try to do. And your father’s cause of death was drowning.”
Marie’s throat tightened. Her father had always hated water. He’d always been scared to death of it. The fact that he’d drowned was unspeakably cruel.
“The police believe Edwin hit his head and fell in the water,” Brandon said. “Is that possible?”
Marie pressed her lips into a grateful half smile. At this moment, she wasn’t sure she could talk. Not unless she wanted to start bawling.
“Yes. He had an injury to the back of his head that could be considered consistent with that theory.”
Marie tilted her head to the side. It sounded as though the medical examiner wasn’t quite sure the police were on the right track.
Of course, that could just be what she wanted to hear. She forced her voice to remain steady. “Could it have happened differently?”
“Yes. When I say something is consistent with the police’s theory, that doesn’t mean their story of the death is the only one possible.” The doctor glanced down at the report and then pointed to his own bald head. His finger stopped near the top. “The bruising occurred right about here.”
“Did he have other bruising that suggested he fell on the rocks? Like on his back or shoulders?”
“No. He had some scrapes on his legs, but that could have been caused by the rocks after he was in the water.”
Marie swallowed into an aching throat. She knew the doctor was trained to look at her father’s death—any death—in an objective and emotionless way. But it was impossible for her to listen to these details with the same detachment. She was just glad, once again
, that Brandon was with her.
Brandon narrowed his eyes on the doctor’s head as if trying to visualize what had happened to her father that night. “So he would have had to fall nearly upside down. As if he went off the pier in a somersault and didn’t make it all the way over.”
The doctor nodded. “That could explain it.”
Marie shook her head. That wasn’t how she imagined it happening. That wasn’t it at all. “He was hit from behind.”
The doctor looked down at the report, then back to Marie. His expression was matter-of-fact, as if her statement didn’t surprise him at all. “The bruising is such that he could have been hit from behind.”
A trill vibrated up Marie’s backbone. This was what she had come to find. Something that would prove he was murdered. Some kind of evidence Chief Hammer would have to acknowledge. “Will you tell the Jenkins Cove police chief that?”
Dr. Tracy’s forehead furrowed. His lips took on a sympathetic slant. “Just because it’s possible doesn’t mean it happened that way.”
“But it’s more likely than my father walking along the water and doing a somersault onto the rocks.”
The medical examiner waved his hands in the air between them, as if clearing out the words they’d spoken. “What I’m saying, Ms. Leonard, is I can’t tell exactly how your father hit his head before he drowned. It could have happened exactly the way the police said. If you’re looking for evidence he was murdered, this is not going to do it.”
Marie lifted her eyes from the document in the doctor’s hands and stared at the overhead lights. She couldn’t let herself cry. She knew her father was murdered. The ambiguity of the autopsy results didn’t change that. She’d just have to find better evidence. She’d have to dig harder.
But where to look next?
“Thank you for your time, Doctor.” Brandon thrust out a hand. The men shook.
Marie stretched her hand out as well. Swallowing the emotion welling inside, she forced her voice to remain steady. “I appreciate your candor.”
The doctor enfolded her hand in his. His graying brow furrowed in concern, as if he could sense how close she was to losing control. “If you have any further questions, you know how to reach me.”
“Yes.” She turned away and made for the door, needing to escape the smells, the emotion, the doctor’s concern more than she remembered needing anything. Brandon slipped a gentle arm around her waist, and at his tender touch, her tears started to flow.
BRANDON HANDED Marie the pressed handkerchief Edwin always insisted he carry and guided her out of the morgue. He’d been amazed she’d been able to hold back her grief this long. While he hated to see her cry, he knew it would be better for her to let it out.
He spotted Josef waiting on a side street and flagged him to bring the town car over. The car sidled up to the curb, and Brandon helped Marie inside.
They were humming down the interstate skirting Annapolis by the time Marie composed herself enough to talk. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. If Edwin was my father, I wouldn’t be holding it together half as well as you are.”
“That’s not true. I’m a mess.”
He wiped a tear from her cheek with his fingers. Despite his better judgment, he let his fingers linger, soaking up the satin feel of her skin, the warmth. Both he and Marie had lost their mothers when they were young. Ten years ago they’d connected through their shared experience. Even then he’d been impressed how strong and accepting she’d been of her mother’s passing. And he knew how much she loved her father. “You’re a lot of things, Marie. A mess isn’t one of them.”
“I don’t know about that. I feel like I can’t think straight.”
That’s how he felt, too, at least when he was this close to Marie. And he knew it had nothing to do with grief.
“I can’t stand to think of him as just some case in a…It’s just so hard.”
He moved his fingertips over her cheek to her chin.
She tilted her face up to him. Her eyes glistened. Tears clumped her lashes. Her lips parted.
He leaned toward her. Kissing her right now felt like the most natural thing in the world. As though it was meant to be. Yet that didn’t make it any less impossible.
Especially now.
He dropped his hand from her chin and stared straight ahead through the windshield. The Bay Bridge stretched in front of them, twin ribbons of steel curving high above the wide blue of the Chesapeake.
“Can you do me a favor?” Marie’s voice sounded pinched.
“Anything.”
“When we get back to Jenkins Cove, will you drop me at Thornton Garden Center? It’s over—”
“I know where it is.” She must want to see Lexie Thornton. Lexie had decorated Drake House for the annual Christmas Ball every year since she’d started working in her parents’ business. And just this fall, Edwin had hired her to redesign the east garden. Brandon had forgotten she was Marie’s childhood friend. He was relieved Marie still had a friend in the area. No doubt she needed a shoulder to cry on. He only wished it could be his. “Josef?”
The chauffeur nodded. “Thornton Garden Center. Yes, sir.”
Chapter Six
Located on the edge of town in a redbrick building off Main Street, Thornton Garden Center was decked out like a Christmas wonderland. Pine bough swags and wreaths were draped dark and fragrant behind clusters of red, white, pink and blue poinsettias. Gold and silver ornaments filled baskets and decorated sample trees. And a variety of holiday-themed and other sun catchers filled wide windows, sparkling like curtains of colored and sculpted ice.
Marie pushed back memories of past Christmases amidst the grand decor of Drake House and entered the center. More decorations cluttered the inside, competing with flower pots, garden orbs and birdbaths waiting for spring. “Carol of the Bells” tinkled in the pine-scented air.
A man in jeans and a heavy sweater looked up from a stack of boxes he was unpacking. Ornate sleighs made of gold wire scattered the countertop in front of him. He held a price gun in one work-roughened hand. “Can I help you?”
“Is Lexie around?”
“She’s in the back room working. If you wait just a second, I’ll get her for you.”
“You look busy. I’ll just peek in myself, if you don’t mind. I’m Marie Leonard. We’re old friends.”
His rough brow furrowed. “Any relation to Edwin Leonard?”
“My father.”
“I’m sorry. I did some work for him at Drake House. He was a good man.”
Marie gave him what she hoped was a grateful smile and nod. After the emotional upheaval she’d gone through in the morgue and in the car with Brandon, she didn’t trust herself to talk. The last thing she needed was more tears. “I’ll just go back.” She turned away before he had the chance to say anything more. Reaching the small workroom, she peeked her head inside.
Lexie stood at a table strewn with pine boughs and ribbon. She attached a luxurious gold bow to a Christmas wreath.
Only a day had passed since Marie had seen Lexie at her father’s service, but after all that had happened, she was so relieved to see her friend, it felt as if it had been weeks. “You told me to stop in. I hope my timing is okay.”
“Marie. Your timing is perfect. I’m just finishing these up to bring to a client.” Lexie set the wreath down, circled the table and took Marie’s hands in hers. “Are you okay?”
Marie tried her best to smile. After her latest bout of crying, her nose was sore and her eyelids felt like over-filled sausage casings. She must look horrible. “I’m fine.”
Lexie looked doubtful. “I’m not buying it.”
The hazards of having a best friend. Even after all this time, Lexie could see right through her. Once again, tears threatened to break free. She shook her head. “How much can one person cry?”
Lexie surrounded her in a hug. “You lost your dad, Marie. Grieving is normal.”
Marie nodded, her cheek snug to L
exie’s shoulder. If anyone knew about grief, it was Lexie. Marie and Brandon could never be together, but at least she knew he was living his life, albeit without her.
And that was precisely why she’d needed to see Lexie this afternoon.
She pulled out of her friend’s embrace and looked her straight in the eye. “You might think I’ve lost it, but I have a favor to ask you.”
“I would never think you’d lost anything.”
“Wait until you hear the favor.”
“Okay, shoot.”
“Do you know anything about the woman who owns House of the Seven Gables?”
“The bed-and-breakfast? Sure. Sophie Caldwell. She comes into the shop. I helped with some of the decorating for their big holiday open house. What about her?”
“She has a way to communicate with people who have died.” She told Lexie about the psychomanteum.
Marie waited to see the skeptical look sweep over Lexie’s features. It didn’t. Instead, she nodded. “You want to try to speak to your father.”
Marie teared up, this time with relief. “You don’t think that’s weird?”
Lexie shrugged. “Weird? No. I’m not convinced it will work, but I think it’s natural for you to want to talk to your dad, to say goodbye.”
“That’s not all I want to say.”
“You want to ask him how to handle Brandon Drake?”
Marie choked back a bitter laugh. She could still feel the heat of Brandon’s fingertips on her cheek, her chin. And her chest still ached from the way he’d pulled back. She didn’t know if she wanted to talk about Brandon. Not even with Lexie. “My father would tell me to handle him by staying far, far away. And he would be right.”
Lexie nodded to a nearby window. “I saw his car drop you off. And I heard you were staying at Drake House. It doesn’t seem like you’re staying very far away.”
So much for avoiding the subject of Brandon. She’d forgotten how quickly news could travel in a small town like Jenkins Cove. “Where did you hear I’m staying at Drake House?”
“Shelley Zachary. You gave her something to gossip about, something besides Brandon’s reasons for canceling the Christmas Ball.” Lexie shook her head.
Christmas Awakening Page 5
