by Alison Stone
The fingers of dread reached out and clutched her throat. She knew exactly why she couldn’t be happy. Her plans to sell the plant were in direct conflict with his. She’d be responsible for taking away his newfound happiness.
Stop! she scolded herself. She had a tendency to think ten steps down the road. Plan for every contingency. She had to learn to shut off her mind, to enjoy the moment.
“Why don’t we light a fire?” The winds beat the cottage, sending a chill racing down her spine.
“Sure.” Benjamin pulled the dishtowel off the handle and tossed it at her. She caught it on reflex. “Enough of this emotional psychobabble already. I’ll get the fire going. You finish up here.”
A few moments later, Kathryn entered the living room. Benjamin lay on the floor in front of the fire, eyes closed. She settled in on the couch with a cup of tea and watched the steady up and down of his chest. They had such an easy relationship. She sighed softly. If only things could have been different. The warm fuzzies wouldn’t deter her from her plan. She owed her mother—and father—that much at least.
Benjamin opened his eyes and smiled. “Sorry. All that fresh air.” He scrambled to his feet and threw another log onto the fire. “Want to watch a movie?”
She smiled. “Sure.” There was something altogether too comfortable about this evening.
He put the movie in and sat next to her on the couch. Sometime after the opening credits, Kathryn felt her eyes grow heavy.
Yes, we definitely have a comfortable relationship.
Chapter Eleven
A distant ring gradually pulled Kathryn from a blissful dream. She didn’t remember exactly what she was dreaming, but it made her happy. Content. Secure. Benjamin’s understated aftershave had even filtered into her dream.
Reluctantly, she opened her eyes. Benjamin’s face, eyes closed, was inches from hers. She sat ramrod straight and his arm—the one draped over her shoulder—slipped down behind her back. We must have fallen asleep on the couch while watching the movie.
Wiping the sleep from her face, she stood up. She had to find her cell phone. A pain shot up her neck. Pressing her hand to it, she tipped her head and groaned. She was getting too old to sleep on the couch.
She ran across the family room and grabbed her purse from the corner. The persistent ringing had worked on her nerves and now she had a terrible sense of foreboding even before she answered her cell phone.
“Hello?”
Her sister Betsy’s words came out in a torrent. “It’s David. They’ve arrested David. You have to come home. Tell the police they’re wrong.”
A jolt of panic coursed through her veins. “What are you talking about?” Her gaze drifted outside to the sky brightening over the lake.
Betsy sobbed, struggling to speak. “They think David attacked you in the warehouse.”
“What?” Kathryn tipped her head and rubbed her forehead.
“The police stormed into his grandmother’s apartment and arrested him. They had to take her to the hospital because she was having chest pains. I promised her I’d get this straightened out.” Her sister’s voice grew stronger. “You have to come home and clear this up.”
“Where are you?” Kathryn’s mind worked overtime. Could it have been David in the warehouse? She didn’t want to believe, but a gnawing doubt crowded her subconscious.
“Home. Mrs. Thompson gave the hospital my cell phone number. I had to cut my vacation short.”
“We’ll be there in forty minutes.” Kathryn ended the call and spun on her heel. Benjamin stood a foot away, arms crossed, a concerned expression on his face. “My sister needs me.” She hiked her chin and looked him square in the eye. “For once, I’m going to be there for her.”
Kathryn fingered the seatbelt as Benjamin turned up the driveway to her mother’s house, the gravel crunching under the tires. The front door flew open and her sister exploded onto the porch and down the steps, her ponytail flying behind her. The despair on her sister’s face made her heart ache. Drawing in a deep breath, Kathryn unhooked her seatbelt and pushed open the car door.
Betsy strode toward her, fisting her hands. Tears stained her cheeks. “You have to fix this. They think David stole parts from the plant.” She sniffled. “They think he broke into our house.” Her eyes widened in disbelief. “This could kill his grandmother. I promised her I’d do whatever I could.” She ran her hand under her nose.
This was much bigger than stealing from Midport Industries. Kathryn felt it in her bones. She put an arm around her sister’s shoulder. “I am so sorry.” Four simple words. But that’s all she could say as she struggled to collect her thoughts. A voice from the warehouse attack floated into her memory. Stay out of it. The slightly familiar voice. David’s voice? David’s build? Tiny hairs on the back of her neck stood on edge.
Betsy pulled free from her embrace and paced back and forth. The sound of crunching gravel grated on Kathryn’s already frayed nerves. “I can’t lose someone else I care about. I just can’t,” Betsy mumbled. “Mrs. Thompson has done so much for me.”
“We’ll get to the bottom of this,” Benjamin said, speaking up for the first time.
Watching her sister break down in front of her, Kathryn fought the tears. Her heart ached for her sister, yet a cool, logical voice in the back of her head whispered, “See? This is what happens when you care too much for someone. Betsy should have kept her work relationships professional.”
Have I really become this cold?
Kathryn cut a glance toward Benjamin, and their eyes locked for a long moment. Have I already started to care too much? Keep work relationships professional, yeah right? She bit her lower lip.
“Betsy,” she muttered uneasily, “is it possible David did these things?” The police had suggested the intruder had a key to their house. He could have swiped one from Betsy’s purse at the diner.
Her sister leaned forward, her arms clutching her waist. “What are you saying?” Red splotches fired bright on her anguished face. “It can’t be him. It would kill his grandmother. He’s a goof, but he’s not a criminal.”
Kathryn’s mind raced as she tried to fit all the puzzle pieces together.
Betsy leveled a glare at her sister. “Did you point the finger at David?” Her lips trembled as tears poured down her cheeks. “Just like you to stir up trouble.” Betsy raised her hand as if to shove her sister. Kathryn stood there, feet frozen in place. Her thoughts swirled in confusion. How could her sister think that?
As if standing outside herself, she watched Benjamin step between them and clutch Betsy’s arms. “Take it easy.”
Her sister stepped back, an apologetic look on her features. “I really need your help on this. I promised Mrs. Thompson.”
Kathryn’s fingers fluttered near the hollow of her neck. She placed her other hand on Benjamin’s forearm for grounding. He covered it with his, sending soothing comfort to her aching soul.
He studied her face, his green eyes glowing with compassion. “You okay?”
Kathryn nodded then finally found her voice. “Betsy, I’m going to call the police station. See what I can find out.”
“Thank you.” A fire burned bright and fierce in Betsy’s eyes. Evidently her initial shock and grief had turned to steely resolve.
“We should head to the station. We’re bound to find out more in person,” Benjamin suggested. Kathryn nodded and he guided her by the elbow.
Kathryn climbed in the front seat, while Betsy opened the back door. “Kathryn and I should go to the station on our own,” Benjamin said.
“No way,” Betsy said. “I need to see David.”
Kathryn shifted in her seat. Her sister glared at her, an expression of loss etched on her features. Kathryn turned away, tears burning the back of her eyes. Realization dawned. Her sister had become fiercely loyal to those she loved. What more could she expect from the thirteen-year-old sister she had abandoned?
Officer Gavin got to his feet and came out from behind his de
sk when the three of them entered the police station. His hat hung low on his forehead, shading his eyes. Averting her gaze, Kathryn noticed a row of orange plastic chairs. She had been forced to wait in one of them for hours the night her father died. She quickly crossed her arms, hoping no one noticed her shudder. To say she hated this place would be an understatement.
“You guys made it here quick.” The officer glanced at his wristwatch. “I just left a message for you at the number Peter Hill gave me. I thought you’d want to know we arrested one of the guys that broke into the warehouse.” He narrowed his eyes, and something hauntingly familiar sent ice pumping through her veins. “I think it’s a matter of time before we link him to the break-in at your house and the harassment.” He tipped his hat toward Kathryn.
“How did you get him?” Benjamin asked, rubbing his hand across his jaw, weariness in his eyes.
Officer Gavin hiked his duty belt, his hand brushing the butt of his gun. “Mr. Thompson’s vehicle was involved in an accident. We found AC units in the trunk. Then we tracked him down to his grandmother’s apartment.”
“What kind of accident?” Kathryn asked. She looked over her shoulder at Betsy. “You never mentioned an accident.”
Betsy’s eyes grew round. “David wasn’t in an accident.” A flicker of hope brightened her features.
“I said his vehicle was involved in an accident.” Apparently the officer didn’t like to be contradicted. “The poor guy driving David’s car never stood a chance. Let me tell you, a few accidents haunt you. This one will haunt me.” He twisted his mouth. “I was off duty when the accident occurred. Just happened to come along.” He shook his head in dismay. “Terry Hunter died on impact. Fool kid never hit the brakes. No skid marks. We haven’t gotten the toxicology reports back, but the scene reeked of alcohol.”
“Can we talk to David?” Benjamin asked.
Officer Gavin seemed to regard the three of them for a minute. “This way.” They followed the officer down a long corridor to a huge steel door. An unseen officer buzzed them in.
On the other side of the door was another long corridor with jail cells lining one side. The vibrant orange cement walls reminded Kathryn of an outdated fast-food restaurant. All the cells stood open except the one on the end.
Kathryn moved toward it. The stale air with a hint of urine assaulted her senses. She resisted the urge to cover her mouth and nose with her hand. Instead, she reached for Betsy’s hand. Her sister gave it a quick squeeze in response. Benjamin followed in silence. Thank God he’s with us.
Not until she stood directly in front of the last cell did she see David. He sat on a thin mattress on a bunk consisting of a piece of steel jutting out from the cement wall. Apparently they didn’t want the inmates rearranging the furniture. David sat motionless, his head in his hands. She struggled to reconcile this David with the one she’d first met at the plant.
Betsy flew to the bars and wrapped her fingers around the metal. “Are you okay?”
David turned toward his visitors, his face drawn. All his cockiness had been knocked out of him. Undoubtedly, the small cell with its silver toilet-and-sink combination on the far wall didn’t suit him. She couldn’t blame him. “How’s my grandma?” he whispered, his voice hoarse.
“They’re taking good care of her at the hospital,” Betsy said, stepping back and leaning against the nearby wall. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep an eye on her.”
David nodded.
Heat crept up Kathryn’s neck. The bars suddenly seemed to converge on themselves. She had to get out of here, sooner rather than later. “What did you get mixed up in, David?” she asked, not caring if she sounded impatient. She figured manners were reserved for those not accused of attacking her.
David pushed a hand through his hair, then stood and approached the bars, angling to see down the hall. He lowered his voice to a whisper. “Is Officer Gavin down there?”
“Yes,” Kathryn said.
David’s lips twitched. “He’s got it in for me,” he mouthed silently.
Kathryn glanced toward Officer Gavin, who seemed disinterested, leaning against the wall. She knew it was an act. No doubt his ears had perked up at the mention of his name.
“He stashed the stolen parts in my car,” David said, his eyes pleading with them. He shook his head and rubbed a hand over his goatee. Rounding his shoulders, he seemed defeated. “You’ve got to believe me.”
“We’ll get everything straightened out,” Betsy said. She glanced over at her sister for confirmation. Kathryn’s stomach dropped, fearing she didn’t share Betsy’s confidence in David.
Benjamin sidled up next to Kathryn and placed a hand on the small of her back, moving his thumb back and forth, a salve on her jangled nerves. “David, did you have anything at all to do with this? The thefts?” He seemed to hesitate. “The attacks?” Officer Gavin remained in the doorway, shifting his stance as he feigned indifference at the line of questioning.
Eyes fixed on the orange-tiled floor, David gritted his teeth. “I already told you. I had nothing to do with this. Gavin has never liked me or Terry.” David cursed under his breath. “Now Terry’s dead.” He lifted his eyes. Something resembling fear hovered below the surface.
Could it have been David? Kathryn couldn’t shake the icy fingers of dread crawling up the back of her neck.
“I bet David used a key he borrowed from his waitress friend here and let himself into the house.” Officer Gavin strolled toward them, seeming to revel in the story. “Probably all drugged up. Worried about a witness to the warehouse break-in.” He leaned in close, inches from the bars. “Am I close, David?”
“Not by a long shot,” David said.
Kathryn found Benjamin studying her, his eyes darkened with anger. Not toward her. But David. Does he think David is responsible for threatening me?
Disquieted by his measured stare, she turned back to her sister, not quite sure how to feel about Benjamin’s strong reaction. Had anyone ever cared so deeply about her? She felt a fluttering in her stomach. Maybe she was reading too much into the emotionally charged situation.
Kathryn took her sister’s hand and nudged her toward the exit. Her scrambled thoughts flashed back to her childhood. Almost every night, Kathryn had done surveillance, as she liked to call it, on Betsy’s room. Official big-sister duty. However, even as a child, the irony wasn’t lost on Kathryn. If she hadn’t filled Betsy’s mind with all sorts of nonsense, the surveillance would have been completely unnecessary.
All the same, she had made a big production of checking under the bed, in the closet, behind the door. Then, and only then, could Betsy go to sleep assured the bogeyman would not get her while she lay sleeping.
Little kids were easy like that.
Tears burned in Kathryn’s nose. She didn’t know if she could fix this for her sister.
Chapter Twelve
“Are you sure this is where she lives?” A cold sadness squeezed Kathryn’s heart as Benjamin pulled the car alongside a beat-up trailer, the white sides marred with brownish rust stains. Life served up some cruel twists and turns, and from the looks of it Monica Beck had received a hearty helping. Poor. Pregnant. And a widow.
Sounded like a bad country song.
And one more reason for Kathryn to stick to her life’s philosophy. If she didn’t let anyone in, she couldn’t get hurt.
“This is it.” Benjamin inclined his head to get a better look at the trailer. “I came here to talk to Monica right after Johnny died.” Genuine concern edged his voice.
“She never said why she wanted to see us?” she asked, trying to hide her exhaustion. She hadn’t slept well last night despite David’s arrest. She had tossed and turned, worrying.
Benjamin tapped his fingers on the steering wheel and stared at the trailer. “Monica said it was important, that’s all.” Cutting her a sideways glance, he reached across the console and squeezed her hand.
“Let’s go,” she said, anxious to put some space between them
. She took a deep breath and stepped out of the car onto the dusty driveway. A biting wind slapped her face. A dog barked inside a nearby trailer.
Just as they reached the foot of the metal steps, Monica pulled open the interior door. “Morning,” she said in a quiet voice. Wordlessly, she pushed open the screen door and held it open with her arm. Kathryn squeezed by Monica’s growing belly. The smell of cooking oil and syrup overwhelmed the small space.
Kathryn’s eyes were immediately drawn to the worn corduroy couch along the back wall. Mrs. Smythe, Nicholas’s mother, sat with ankles crossed, folded hands resting on a newspaper in her lap. Kathryn glanced over her shoulder at Benjamin, her surprise mirrored in his face. He put his palm on her back and guided her further into the room.
“Morning, Mrs. Smythe,” Kathryn said. “I didn’t realize you’d be here.” She scanned the room. A peninsula counter with two stools divided the seating area from the kitchen, a small space lacking in modern conveniences and dated—much like the rest of the place.
Mrs. Smythe gave a nervous laugh, a sound bubbling up from her chest. “I hear you ran into trouble in the warehouse.”
“What’s this about?” Benjamin asked, crossing his arms and resting his hip against the counter. A hint of a red collar was visible under his leather coat. Kathryn brushed past him and sat down on the couch next to Mrs. Smythe.
Monica ignored the question as she busied herself setting out tea and cookies on the coffee table in front of the couch. She finally sat down in a nearby rocker. She rubbed her belly in small circles, an almost absent-minded gesture. She nodded slightly to Mrs. Smythe, as if giving her the go-ahead.
The older woman picked up the newspaper in her lap and handed it to Kathryn. A photo of David Thompson being led away by Officer Gavin was splashed across the front page. The photo next to it was David’s vehicle crumbled against the thick trunk of a tree. Kathryn didn’t bother to read the caption. She suspected she knew what it said.
