by Vicki Hinze
She paused a long second, letting her rioting emotions settle. Ben looked as if he wanted to say something but was totally lost. She knew how he felt. “Two men came outside and talked with a third. They didn’t see me, and I didn’t want to be seen, so I stepped behind a column.”
She pushed her hair back from her face and looked Ben in the eye. “It was Paul Johnson and Gregory Chessman. The third man, I didn’t recognize, but Chessman deferred to him, so I expect he was his boss or a higher-up in NINA. They were talking about getting everything and everyone in position for a biological attack, Ben. So it would kill everyone but not damage valuable equipment and materials. I couldn’t catch all of it, but I heard more than enough to get me hunted down. I’ve been running from them ever since.”
This was so hard. She let herself absorb it. Help me get through this. I can’t do it alone. Reassuring warmth spread through her chest. “I wouldn’t have listened, but with what they were discussing, I had no choice but to stay hidden and pray they didn’t discover me.”
“But they did?” Ben took a drink of his untouched juice, and while he sounded steady, his hand shook.
“Yes. They were talking about how the property had been condemned and all that stood in their way was my aunt Beth. They had to have her beach house.” Kelly grabbed a staggered breath. “She had told me about being pressured to sell—some of her neighbors had been too, though the buyer was anonymous. She said she had her suspicions on who was behind it, but if she said anything, she’d be driven out of the village on rails.”
“Did she say she suspected Johnson or Gregory of something illegal?”
“No. But I heard plenty enough to know that what they were planning with this NINA guy was treason, and if anyone got in their way … ”
“What?” Ben slid forward on his seat.
“Chessman told Johnson to remove all obstacles. Permanently.”
Kelly remembered the sick fear that had assaulted her that night. She’d been terrified. That Gregory talked of killing people was horrific, but the dispassionate tone in his voice chilled her to the bone. “I must have gasped or something because Chessman heard me. He ordered Paul to find me and get rid of me.”
Oh, she’d never in her life been so afraid. “I ran, hiding behind bushes in the darkness.” Once, Paul had come so close to her she’d smelled his sweat. “He didn’t find me. But Chessman and he were close, and Johnson told him not to worry. He’d take care of it. Chessman said, no, he’d have someone else deal with that, he wanted Johnson focused on getting the beach house.”
“Good grief.”
“I ran, Ben. And I kept on running. I didn’t even go back to the beach house for my clothes.” Shame burned her face. “I left Aunt Beth a voice mail message that I had to disappear for a while and I’d be in touch when I could.”
“Oh, Kelly.”
“I know.” She parked her elbow on the table and half-covered her face with her hand. “I’m ashamed of myself for running, but I couldn’t find another way to keep Aunt Beth safe. If I stayed away—”
“Then she wouldn’t be harmed.”
“Yes.” Kelly cleared her throat. “It worked too. Chessman couldn’t find me, and he left Aunt Beth alone because he knew I was out there and could nail him.”
Ben dragged a hand across the back of his neck. “Then she had a heart attack and died.”
“And I started getting anonymous offers for the beach house—above market-value offers.”
“Chessman.”
“I would think so, but I can’t prove it.” She still bristled at Alexander Denham’s odd insistence that she sell. Never, not once since he’d transitioned from being her guardian and trustee to her advisor, had he pushed her that hard on anything.
Ben frowned. “I don’t understand how this connects—”
Then it hit him; she could see it in his eyes, and though the words were no longer necessary, she gave them to him.
“Johnson and Chessman mistook me for Susan.” She licked her lips. “Aunt Beth had hoped Susan and I would meet at the party, but some woman—the mayor’s wife, I think—told Aunt Beth that Susan couldn’t come. She was home with a sick child.”
Ben stared at Kelly, his jaw gaping, his eyes fixed. He looked frozen, as if he couldn’t move or even breathe.
“I’m so sorry, Ben.” Her tears flowed in earnest. “I didn’t know Susan. I had no idea she existed, much less that she’d be mistaken for me.”
“My wife and son were killed by mistake?” He clearly was struggling to wrap his mind around it. Angry and bitter, he raised his voice. “By mistake?”
“Oh, Ben. I’m sorry. So sorry.” A sob tore loose from deep in her chest. “It’s my fault Susan and Christopher are dead.”
“Lucille, where is Mr. Chessman?”
“Late breakfast on the terrace, Mr. Johnson.”
Paul kept walking. “Thank you.”
Lucille looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. Paul supposed it was odd; he didn’t typically waste time on chitchat. But he was in a particularly good mood now that he’d covered himself and Gregory was on the hook.
He walked out onto the terrace. Mr. Chessman sat at a glass-topped table, finely set as always, sipping at coffee and reading the paper. “Good morning again, sir.”
Chessman lowered the newspaper. It fluttered in the cool breeze.
“Paul. What’s up?”
He wasn’t happy at having his breakfast interrupted, but then Paul didn’t recall ever seeing the man happy. Amused, thrilled by a deal, yes. But happy? No. Never.
“I need a little time off. It’s a personal matter.”
“Today?” Gregory eyed him sharply.
“Just a few hours this morning, sir.”
“So it won’t interfere with tonight’s shipment?”
“Of course not, sir.” Paul knew better than to consider anything that would interfere. The only excuse for upsetting Mr. Chessman’s schedule was death. One’s own. “It shouldn’t take long.”
Chessman’s eyes glinted like flint. “Anything I can do?”
“No sir.” Only a crazy man or a very stupid one would give Gregory Chessman anything on himself.
“Very well.”
“Thank you, sir.” Paul turned to go.
“Ten o’clock. Don’t be late—and let me know when John Green gets back from New Orleans.” Gregory chuckled. “He must be having some party.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“He isn’t returning my calls.”
“If you like, I can phone him to let him know you’d appreciate a more timely response.”
“Thank you, Paul, but no. He has need of his fingers, and it’s nothing that can’t wait.”
“Yes sir.” Paul left the terrace, smarting from Chessman’s snide remark.
Soon enough, the tide would turn. He tamped his temper. Chessman would go down, and because of NINA, he wouldn’t be able to say a thing. Not even against Paul. The man was going to need someone loyal on the outside.
And Paul would gladly step into those shoes. He’d be the master of Chessman’s universe for the rest of his life.
Everything to make it happen was now in place.
24
Kelly sat at the table across from Ben, staring at him, watching him stare at her, weeping silent tears wrenched from her very soul largely because she knew he had to be weeping inside too.
A rap at the door ended a horrible silence.
“Yes?” Ben swiped at his jaw with his sleeve. “Come in.”
Peggy opened the door, took one look at Ben and then at Kelly, and pretended everything was normal. “There’s been a development.”
“What development?” Ben’s voice was soft, disconnected, and distant.
Caught in the past. Her heart twisted even more.
“We got a phone call.” She looked at Kelly. “It was about your beach house.”
“From whom?” Ben asked.
“We’re not sure,” Mark said, stepping
around Peggy. “It was disguised. We couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman, and the number wasn’t traceable.” Mark slid a hand through his hair. “We’re waiting for Detective Jeff Meyers to report in with the official word, but I suspect it’s another throwaway phone.”
Kelly found her voice. “What did the caller say about the beach house?”
Peggy leaned against the door frame. “It’s critical that you go to the beach house right now and take a hard look around inside.”
“I called Jeff,” Mark said. “He’s going over and will meet you there.”
Kelly risked a glance at Ben. Something had died in his eyes. Seeing that, and knowing what it was and that she’d put it there, shattered her fractured heart. She stiffened against the pain. “Doris and I will leave right now.”
“No.” Ben shoved back his chair and stood. “Doris can stay here. You and I will go right now.”
Kelly didn’t argue. It would be pointless. But neither would she be foolish enough to think this had anything to do with her. Ben was on a mission for only one woman, and she was his dead wife.
And his son.
Kelly stood, then started walking out.
Peggy stepped into her path, stopping her at the door. “The caller also said for you to expect a special delivery at three o’clock sharp this afternoon.”
“Where?” Ben asked.
“Here at the center.” Peggy touched Kelly’s arm and dropped her voice. “You okay?”
“I’m fine.” Kelly forced a shaky smile, doubting she’d ever feel fine again, though she knew better. God has His ways of fixing the unfixable. His wonders often surpassed human understanding, but somehow He’d glue her back together.
Never had she been able to depend on the men in her life. Not since her father had died—or even before then. He’d left her with Samuel Johnson, after all. But she had always trusted God, and He’d always provided for her. Not always in the way she wanted or expected, but in hindsight, always in the perfect way she needed.
Thank You for that.
“You ready?” Ben asked from beside her.
“Ready.”
Doris stayed at the center, and Ben drove Kelly over to the beach house in his SUV.
They made the entire trip in dead silence.
The driveway was empty. Kelly searched the street, but it was empty. Jeff Meyers hadn’t yet arrived.
“No key.” Ben grabbed a crowbar from the trunk. “I’ll break a window.”
She spotted a rock in a flower bed just off the edge of the porch. “No, wait.” She lifted the rock, then pulled the key out of its hollow bottom.
“I should have thought of that.” He set down the crowbar, then took the key from her.
“No problem.” Stiff. Uncomfortable. Unfamiliar between them. That nearly had her weeping again. She buried her emotions and waited for him to open the door. He didn’t look as if he hated her, but he looked so sad it cracked her heart right down the middle. And she couldn’t do anything to help him. She was the reason he was mourning his wife and son, and patient or not, that was too huge an obstacle to overcome. The relationship building between them couldn’t survive this.
Her memory loss had created a bond between them.
Its return had crushed it.
What is, is. She had to accept it.
And she would. Her chest squeezed tight. But it was going to take a while. She’d dated, she’d been serious about a guy once, but never had she felt the hand of God in a relationship as she had with Ben. And now it was gone, and for the rest of her life, she’d mourn.
The door creaked open.
Kelly followed Ben inside. The air was dank and stale. Crumpled newspapers curled on the floor in the corner, and someone had put out cigarettes on the hardwood floor. Butts and black smears marred every corner. It felt strange being in Aunt Beth’s beach house empty of furniture, her eclectic collections, or her flamboyant art littering the walls.
They searched room by room and found more of the same. “Let’s split up, check the bedrooms,” Ben said.
Kelly took the first room off the hallway and spotted the staircase. Her heart thumped hard. “Ben! Ben, come here!”
Ben rushed in and Kelly pointed. “This was my bedroom. When I left three years ago, these stairs were not here.”
“I remember. Stay behind me.”
“Shouldn’t we wait for Jeff?”
“Mark texted me a minute ago. Jeff’s tied up. He’ll be here as soon as possible.”
Kelly raked her teeth over her lower lip. “The caller said to look now. We’d better not wait.”
“I agree.” Ben headed down the stairs. At the bottom, he made a turn, stepping out of sight. “It’s empty.”
Kelly rushed down and spotted a door under the staircase. “What’s this?”
“Stand back.” Ben stood away from the door, opened it, and let it swing wide.
Kelly pulled a miniflashlight from the purse Peg had given her. “Here.”
He grabbed it without looking back. A little click, and a beam of light spread down a hollow opening. Nothing was inside. “What is this?”
“A tunnel.” Kelly stated the obvious, then frowned. “But where can it go?” Outside, there was sand and beach, and frankly she was shocked the concrete walls weren’t damp, being this close to the water.
Ben closed the door and steered Kelly back to the stairs. “We’ll find out, but I’d feel better with some backup. No idea what we’re walking into—or have you remembered something about this too?”
“Nothing. None of this was here.”
“It looks new.” Ben pulled out his cell phone and dialed.
Kelly sat on the second to last step. “Aunt Beth was half-crazy, I’ll admit, but she’d never do anything illegal, and there’d be no need for a tunnel for anything that wasn’t.”
“Sure about that?”
She started to respond by rote, then decided against it. “No.” That hurt, but truth was truth.
Ben sent her a look too tender to bear. She looked away.
“Mark, Ben. You tied up?” He paused. “I need you over at the beach house. We found something.”
Kelly couldn’t reason through it, and she hated being suspicious of her aunt. It wasn’t fair. Why couldn’t life be fair, just once in a while?
“A tunnel.” He sighed. “Yeah, on the beach. Actually”—Ben swiveled and walked two steps—“under it.” Another pause, and then, “Great. See you in ten.” He flipped his phone closed, then put it in its holster at his belt. “He’ll be right over.”
Kelly propped her hands on her knees. “Good.”
Ben studied her a long moment, then sat beside her on the step. Their knees brushed, and though she knew she should move away, she didn’t. “Can we talk?”
Fear gripped her hard. He was going to tell her he was sorry, but under the circumstances, he didn’t want to see her anymore. He was going to say they had moved too fast; he couldn’t feel the same about her. He was going to walk away. And because she couldn’t blame him if he felt half the pain she felt on looking at him, she tried to agree, but her voice just wouldn’t work. She settled for a nod.
“I care about you, Kelly. A lot.” He clasped her hand and pressed their palms together. “I know you think this is about you, but it’s not. You didn’t do anything to Susan and Christopher, okay? They were victims, just like you.”
Gracious, but not true.
“So what I’m about to say, it’s not about you, it’s about me.”
She didn’t understand, but she waited, giving him time to say what he had to say in his own time and in his own way.
“You’re the first woman I’ve cared about since Susan.” He glanced away, then back at her. “I feel guilty.”
“Because I’m the reason she’s dead.”
“Maybe. In part. But also just because I didn’t protect them. I should have protected them.”
“Oh, Ben, no.” She sighed. “I saw those two that night, and tha
t NINA guy was even worse. No one could protect them. I heard it in their voices. I really did. They would have done anything.”
“It doesn’t seem right.” He lowered his gaze to the stair, between his knees. “My being happy, maybe falling in love again, while she’s in the ground.” His shoulders heaved. “I-I—”
“You don’t have to explain. I understand.” So he had been falling in love with her too. Crushed, robbed of this precious treasure, she briefly looked heavenward.
Oh, why? Why must I lose him too? I’ve lost everyone I’ve loved my whole life.
“Some obstacles are just too much to overcome, Ben.”
“Maybe. Or maybe we just need some time to see how things work out.”
Hope sparked to life inside her. She jerked her head up, met his gaze. “God brought us together to resolve this mystery, Ben. I’m crazy about you, but I can’t say I know God brought us together for us, too. I thought He had. But now I’m not so sure.”
“Do we have to be sure right now?”
She blinked, stunned. He didn’t hate her. He might not love her, but he didn’t hate her.
Be patient with him.
“No, we don’t.”
“I’m being selfish, Kelly.” He squeezed her hand in both of his. “You get me like no one else, and I get you. This bond between us is special and rare. And I don’t want to lose it.”
“Me neither.”
“But I’m not sure I’m ready for it, and I don’t want to hurt you.”
She summoned her courage and cupped his beloved face in her hand. “Ben, don’t you see that I’ll hurt anyway? Losing you … ” She swallowed hard, bent close so their lips brushed. “If we work past this, we’ll have something good.” A gift straight from God. “If not … well, I’ll take the risk.”
She had money. She had power in her world. It meant nothing. Just once in her life, she wanted to be loved.
“I don’t know if I can get back to God. I really don’t. And you’d never be content with me if I fail.”
