Too Close to Home
Page 13
Benjamin was the hardest memory of all.
Chapter Thirteen
Kathryn had no idea how long she had stood at the front door after Benjamin left. The pained expression that had been etched on his face was now imprinted in her brain. Finally, she reached out and drove the deadbolt home. Her head throbbed with spent emotion. She had never shared what happened the night her father died with anyone. She had been too ashamed.
If she hadn’t been in a rush to see Benjamin…
If she had stayed with her father in the garden…
If she had kept him company…
Her father would still be alive.
Kathryn drew in a deep breath and turned toward the stairs. The house stood eerily quiet while the setting sun streamed through the windows. Normally, she craved the solitude—thrived on it actually—but tonight it made her flesh crawl. Would she ever feel safe in this house again?
Kathryn traced her fingers along the railing as she climbed the stairs. She daydreamed about changing into a pair of sweats and reading a good book. Pure escapism.
Fat chance.
When she rounded the landing at the top, she noticed Betsy in her bedroom. Her back was to the door and she was holding a basketball, tossing it from hand to hand. She seemed to be staring at the driveway. Was she imagining a game of horse with Dad?
Poor Betsy had only been thirteen when Dad died. Five years younger than Kathryn.
Hating to intrude, she took a few steps back. The old wooden floor creaked under her weight.
Betsy swung around and their eyes locked. Her little sister swiped at a tear slipping down her cheek. “Whenever I really miss Dad I pick up the basketball.” She laughed. “He was such a good sport raising two girly girls. He must have had the patience of a saint to try to play basketball with us.”
“What?” Kathryn said with mock indignation. “I was pretty good at horse.”
Betsy rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. “I’m pretty sure Dad let you win.”
“True.” Kathryn stepped into the room and angled her head to get a better read on Betsy’s mood. “Where’s Mom?”
“Still at Aunt Elle’s. Won’t be back for a few days.” Betsy placed the ball on a shelf in her closet and plopped down on her twin bed, leaning back on her hands. She cut a glance toward Kathryn. “Quite the commotion out there in the yard. Friends of yours?”
“Funny.” Kathryn rested her elbow on a white dresser. She had a matching one in her room. “Thanks for calling the police.”
“What are sisters for?”
“I’m sorry.” The heaviness in Kathryn’s chest eased a fraction. She had kept up this false bravado for too long.
The expression on Betsy’s face froze for half a second before crumpling. She lowered her face into her hands and sobbed. Kathryn ran her fingers along the smooth edge of the dresser, resisting the urge to run to her sister and pull her into her arms. She feared any effort to comfort her would be rebuked. Thrown back in her face.
Reach out. Stop being afraid of getting hurt.
Benjamin’s disappointment as he left moments ago flashed in her mind and clutched her throat, making it difficult to swallow. She had taken whatever they had—whatever they could have had—and thrown it back in his face.
Suddenly emboldened, Kathryn sat on the bed next to her sister and wrapped her arm around Betsy’s shoulders. “I’m so sorry you’re hurting.” Her breath hitched.
Anticipation charged the room. Betsy lifted her head and finally faced her. “I’m really worried about Mrs. Thompson. She’s still in the hospital. I don’t want to lose someone else in my life. She’s been so good to me.”
“She’ll be okay. David’s out of jail, right?”
Betsy nodded. “His grandmother posted his bail.” She sighed. “Put the diner up as collateral.”
“Be patient. Everything will work out.” If only I took my own advice.
Betsy lifted her hand. “I got a letter from David today.”
“You did?”
“Yes.” Betsy stared out the window. “Someone dropped it through the front door mail slot. I never saw him. He’s ashamed.” She let out a quick breath. “He said he didn’t do anything. That someone is out to get him.” She shrugged and turned to face Kathryn, her lower lip trembling. “He still claims Officer Gavin planted the stolen parts in his car.”
Kathryn patted Betsy’s knee. “Did he tell you why?”
Betsy raised her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. “His lawyer doesn’t want him to say too much. He just wanted to apologize and thank me for being there for his grandmother.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know.” Betsy traced the pattern in her comforter.
Kathryn grabbed her sister’s hand and forced her to meet her gaze “You’re a true friend. I’m lucky to have you as a sister. I’m sorry I bailed on you right after Dad died. I wasn’t there for you.”
Betsy looked perplexed. “You had plans to go to college.”
“I should have stayed with you and Mom. You were so young.”
“I turned out okay.”
When Kathryn didn’t answer right away, Betsy rolled her eyes. “Sis, I’m doing fine. Other than this latest fiasco, I’ve done just fine. I know you find it hard to believe but I’m happy.”
Kathryn reached up and playfully tugged at one of her sister’s curls. “I’m glad you’re happy.”
“The question is, are you?”
Kathryn jerked her head back. “Of course. I’ve got a great job in Buffalo. They’ve given me a leave of absence until I take care of business here.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t be in such a hurry. Stick around a little longer this time.” Betsy tipped her head. “You might discover you could be happy here too.”
When Kathryn arrived at the plant early Saturday morning, she found Benjamin working at his desk. She froze in the doorway, hating the guilt that consumed her every time she saw him. She was determined to put her plans for selling the company into motion, but seeing him made it harder to pretend people’s lives wouldn’t be radically affected by her actions.
He looked up, brows drawn together. “Hey, I like your hair.”
Caught off-guard, her hand flew to her curls. For once, she’d decided to leave her hair down. Live dangerously. “It’s the weekend.”
He nodded in appreciation and her cheeks warmed. “What was the big rush to meet here on a Saturday morning anyway?” he asked.
Kathryn closed the door and sat in the chair across from his desk. Her stomach knotted. She took a deep breath. “I have a plan.”
He dropped his pen on the desk and crossed his arms, giving her the full weight of his stare.
She leaned forward, tucking her hands under her thighs. “I called Officer Orlando, MPD’s K-9 officer.”
Benjamin pushed back his chair and stood. He crossed to the window overlooking the plant. “To see if there’s any truth to the drugs in the warehouse?”
Kathryn’s resolve slipped a bit. She paused a moment before plowing ahead. “Exactly. Remember how the police department had a dog come out to the warehouse and search the exterior after the break-in? Well, I called Officer Orlando and learned Chase, their German shepherd, is trained to find drugs. We can allow them into the building this time.”
Benjamin pushed a hand through his hair. “Don’t you think it’s a stretch? Nicholas called David a drug dealer. It doesn’t mean he was dealing at the warehouse or that any of the drugs are still there.”
“What do we have to lose?”
“If Chase doesn’t succeed, we’re only going to destroy our employees’ trust.” He turned around and leaned on the glass. “If we’re wrong, it’s not going to be good for employee morale either.”
“What choice do we have?”
“This has to do with Xenon, doesn’t it?” Benjamin asked, surprising her. “That’s why you want to rush into this. Peter has been checking things out. Let’s wait and see what he c
omes up with. It’ll take time.”
“We can’t wait.” She bit her lower lip, searching for the right words. “Xenon is part of the reason. They are very interested in our company. But if we keep delaying—” She stopped herself, then blurted out, “Bottom line, no company is going to buy a business when there are rumors of illegal activity in their warehouse.”
Benjamin shook his head. “Is your concern the safety and well-being of our employees or getting your money out of the company?”
Kathryn tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, feeling her face heat. “I don’t want drugs running through Midport Industries any more than you do.”
“Of course not, but be honest with me. No more shades of truths.”
Kathryn’s blood thrummed through her ears. How dare he accuse her of anything underhanded? She had been nothing but upfront with him. Maybe too honest.
“When will the K-9 unit be here?” Benjamin asked, breaking off her thoughts.
“In thirty minutes.”
Benjamin picked up the phone and punched in a few numbers. “Guess I better let Peter and Bill know.”
Peter’s home answering machine picked up. The guy was probably off doing something with his family. Not everyone worked Saturday mornings. Benjamin hung up without leaving a message. Some things were better communicated in person. This had the makings of a public relations nightmare for the company. He prayed Kathryn was wrong about the drugs.
If the rumors of drug dealing or anything illicit in the warehouse turned out to be true, he feared his father’s good name would be dragged through the mud. How could anything like this have gone on under his family’s nose?
Benjamin leaned back in his chair and stared out the window to the plant. The overhead conveyors stood quiet. Besides the small crew in the warehouse, the place was empty. He supposed if they had to search the place with a police dog, today was as good as any.
He pushed back his chair and headed toward the door, determined to find Peter before the news of the drug raid found him. As he approached the door, he was surprised to see Peter through the window. He pulled the door open. “Morning. I need to talk to you.”
“I heard.” A grim-faced Peter stood rooted on the metal staircase.
Benjamin furrowed his brow. “You heard?”
His uncle nodded. “Officer Gavin called me. Wanted to know why he hadn’t been notified we’re bringing in the K-9 unit.” He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and tapped one out. He put it to his lips with a shaky hand. Then pulled it away. “What in the world are you thinking? We agreed to be discreet. What happened to our plan?”
Benjamin stepped around his uncle, then turned and rested a hip against the railing. “We had to move on this. If there’s any truth to drugs in the plant, we need to put an end to it. We can’t risk anyone else getting hurt. Or worse.”
“You should have listened to me. Done it my way.” Peter rubbed his forehead with a shaky hand.
“Are you all right?” Benjamin pushed himself off the railing and placed a hand on Peter’s arm. “You don’t look so good.”
His uncle lowered his eyes, shaking his head. “You have to call off the search.” When he lifted his eyes, Benjamin noted something akin to begging.
“What’s going on here?”
“I think I can figure out who’s behind this once and for all.” Peter lifted the cigarette to his lips and flicked the lighter several times before it lit. He inhaled deeply. He released a long, smoke-filled breath, completely disregarding the no smoking laws.
“We can’t just rush in there with a German shepherd. Okay, okay…” Peter let his words trail off and waved the cigarette around, as if devising a plan. “Say there are drugs. Even if the dog does find something, we might get a few guys. Chances are we won’t get them all. They’ll stay low for a while before starting up again.” He took another drag on his cigarette. “We need to wait. Do this right. Give me a chance to find out who all the players are.”
“It’s time you let the authorities take over,” Benjamin said. He descended a few more stairs, trying to avoid the plume of smoke.
“Not yet. Not yet. Call off the search.” Peter rubbed the back of his neck, sweat beading on his forehead.
“I can’t, Peter. Let it go.” He turned to leave. He needed to get to the warehouse before the K-9 unit.
“Call it off,” Peter yelled. The distress in his voice forced Benjamin to turn around. When he did, his heart dropped in his chest. Uncle Peter, a man he had known his entire life, had a look of desperation in his eyes unlike any he’d ever seen.
Benjamin climbed the stairs to where Peter stood. “Take it easy. I don’t know what’s going on, but we can work it out.”
“You don’t understand.”
Panic rose in Benjamin’s stomach. Suddenly he understood very clearly.
The Midport Police Department K-9 Unit vehicle pulled up along the back of the warehouse. A German shepherd’s black snout poked out of the partially lowered window, his breath fogging the glass.
Officer Orlando stepped out and opened the back door, hooking the leash on the dog collar just as the shepherd bounded out the door. “Come on, Chase.”
Kathryn instinctively took a step back as the impressive animal jerked toward her.
The officer yanked back on the leash. “Easy.”
“Okay,” Kathryn said, checking the display of her cell phone again, “we can start any time.” She had hoped Benjamin would be here. But she couldn’t delay. “I’d like to do this with as little disruption to the facility as possible.”
“I can release Chase once we get inside the warehouse,” the officer said, his voice stern and assured. A man who took charge.
She glanced at the German shepherd. A vision of a police dog taking down some bad guy, its powerful mouth clamped in a vise grip on his arm, flashed through her mind. For the first time, she doubted her plan. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears. “Are the employees in any danger?”
The officer glared at her, a severe expression on his face. “Not unless a person poses a threat to me. Other than that, Chase has been trained to find drugs.”
She glanced down at the beautiful animal at his feet, its tail wagging in anticipation of the hunt. Doubt started to creep in. She pulled back her shoulders. She had come this far. No turning back now.
“Okay, let’s get started.” Her voice exuded a confidence she didn’t feel. She led the officer to the warehouse door. Chase bounded ahead of him.
“Chase looks like he’s ready to play,” Kathryn commented.
Officer Orlando nodded his head slightly. “That’s what this is to him. Play.”
The employees probably wouldn’t feel that way. “There might be a little commotion when we arrive,” Kathryn explained. “The employees don’t know we’re coming.” She reached for a tendril of hair at the back of her neck and twirled it between her fingers, wishing Benjamin were here.
As they rounded the outside corner of the building, she noticed Bud Farley standing by the door, bracing his hands on the railing. His gruff look did nothing to calm her nerves.
Bud pointed and shouted, “What’s going on here? That animal can’t go in there.”
Kathryn opened her mouth to speak when Officer Orlando said in a no-nonsense voice, “Step aside. I have permission from the owners.” The officer and the dog brushed past the union official.
When Kathryn did the same, Bud muttered under his breath, “All you’re going to find is a hefty grievance on your desk.”
She turned on her heel to face him and glared into his icy eyes. “You do what you have to do. I’ll do the same.”
Once inside the door, Officer Orlando commanded, “Find dope.”
The dog reared up on his leash. The officer released him, and Chase ran to sniff under and around anything in his path. Officer Orlando, then Kathryn, followed.
“Hey, what’s going on here?” a fork truck driver asked. “What’s the dog for?”
Kathryn lifted h
er hand. “It’s okay. Go back to work.”
“Are you looking for drugs?” he asked, his eyes wide.
“Please go back to work.” She felt the heat rise in her cheeks. Where in the world is Benjamin?
Chase came to a pallet of raw plastic pellets and pawed at them excitedly. “Good boy,” Officer Orlando said, patting the dog’s head and slipping him a treat.
Chase paced from side to side then circled the pallet, acting like a puppy about to get a bone.
“Good boy,” the officer repeated, slipping the dog’s leash on. He pulled out a pocketknife and slit the shrink-wrap encasing the pallet. He cut open a bag only to find black pellets, the raw material for the injection molding machines.
Kathryn motioned to a couple guys watching the action. “Move those top bags.”
“Guys, you don’t have to do that.” Bud’s beefy hand pointed at the bags. “It’s not in your job description.”
“Move them,” Officer Orlando ordered.
The two men came forward somewhat reluctantly and threw the top layer of bags to the side. Chase bounded up on his leash and barked excitedly. The two men stepped back a few feet.
“Find dope,” the officer commanded.
Chase sniffed around each bag until he came to the third one. He sat and looked up at his handler. Officer Orlando patted Chase and gave him a treat. “Good boy.” He pulled the animal back and held him at bay with one hand while slitting the bag open with the other.
Instead of little black pellets as Kathryn expected, the bag contained tightly wrapped packages of something white. Tiny pinpricks blanketed her scalp. A hand flew to her mouth.
“Good boy,” the officer said again, patting and rubbing Chase’s neck.
“Is that what I think it is?” Kathryn asked, her stomach flipping. Even though she’d expected something like this, finding it was something altogether different. Now what?
The officer seemed to regard her for a moment. “Any idea how it got here?”
She shook her head. I have to call Benjamin.
Benjamin lifted his palm to Peter. “Whatever’s going on we can work it out.”