He inhaled slowly. “I did, but you know what? I can’t tell you everything. I hope you understand that.”
She felt the blood flow to her cheeks. “Because of my talking to Stephen?”
“No. There are just things I can’t tell people until the time is right. But I hope that maybe tomorrow something will break in this case.”
“You mean…the murders? Or the embezzling?”
“Both. There is one thing I can tell you. I questioned Roberta Palmer again this afternoon, when her lawyer was there.”
Adrienne looked up at her husband eagerly. “Did she tell you where that money is? You said she withdrew it from the bank yesterday and got rid of it before you arrested her at the airport.”
Connor bit his upper lip and smiled at her. “No, sweetheart. She didn’t tell me what she did with it.”
“She doesn’t deny taking it out of the bank, does she?” Kate dared to ask.
Connor smiled at her, too, and she relaxed a little. He wasn’t mad at her. “Oh, she admits withdrawing the money. We’ve got the bank security tapes and the teller’s testimony, after all. But she says she had a perfect right to do that, which, in a way, she did. But she won’t say what happened to it.”
Kate was sure he knew a lot more than he was saying. “Did you ask her about Burton?”
“She claimed he was meeting her in New York with new documents, and they would leave the country for an unspecified destination. He was taking care of that end of it. She’d told him we were onto his Parlin persona. She figured we’d realize she was his partner in crime soon. That’s why she bolted as soon as the ticket money was in. She claimed she was going to meet him at a hotel in Manhattan. But I checked with the hotel, and Burton was never there under his name or Parlin’s. If he stayed there, or if he made a reservation, he used a different name.”
“What does that mean?” Kate asked.
“Either she’s lying to me, or Burton wasn’t playing it straight with her.”
Adrienne grimaced. “They sound like they deserve each other.”
On Saturday morning, Neil took a shift on surveillance outside the post office. He sat in an unmarked car and watched the side door. He knew that Jimmy Cook was around the corner, watching the front entrance. Detective Emily Rood was inside, wearing the USPS uniform jacket.
It was a slow morning. Neil had plenty of time to ponder his potential future with Kate. She may be impulsive, but she was a crackerjack reporter. That might not be so good, though. She loved her job so much, she might not want to settle down. Would she be willing to give up her job someday to stay home with a baby, as Adrienne had done? Because Neil couldn’t picture his own son or daughter in day care. And he did want children. More and more, he felt the urge to establish his own home and family.
I guess it’s okay to pray about things like this, Lord. That woman in the Bible, Hannah, prayed for a baby. And I would like to be a father someday, if You’ll let me. Show me if Kate is the right woman for me.
Fifteen minutes before the post office was due to close for the weekend, he spotted a familiar figure on the sidewalk. He radioed the other detectives on surveillance and then opened his cell phone and punched in Connor’s home number.
“Connor, I just saw Sean Burton go into the post office.”
“Did you say Sean? Not Stephen?”
“That’s affirmative. Emily won’t give him the package.”
“She’d better not. His name’s not on the paperwork for the post office box.”
“Hang on. I’ll tell you when he comes out.”
“Neil, tail him. If he doesn’t go home, I want to know where he goes. I can’t believe Jim Burton’s in touch with both boys.”
“Maybe he’s reconciled with his entire family, now that Roberta Palmer’s out of the picture.”
Less than five minutes later, Sean emerged from the building, his shoulders slumped. He hurried along the sidewalk, and Neil started his car. It soon became obvious that the boy was headed home.
“Get backup and check the house,” Connor said. “I hate to do it, but I guess we’ve got to. If Jim Burton is back with his wife and is using his own home for headquarters…”
“You don’t think he and Claire planned this all along, and he was just using Roberta to help get the money?” Neil asked.
“No. Well…Honestly? I have no idea.”
FOURTEEN
Neil arrived early for their date, and Kate wasn’t ready. He explained with a sheepish—but adorable—smile.
“I came early on purpose so I could brief Connor before we go see Oma.”
“Oh,” Kate said. “Well, I guess I’d better leave you two alone, then.”
Neither of them contradicted her or invited her to sit in on the session, so she jogged up the stairs, trying not to let it bother her. She couldn’t help wondering if Connor regretted being so open with her at the beginning. He had definitely narrowed the information pipeline that supplied her material.
She dressed meticulously in a black wool skirt and rose heather sweater, with high black boots and a print challis shawl. When she went downstairs, Neil and Connor were sitting in the living room with Adrienne and Matthew, and Connor held baby Hailey.
“Kate, we’ve been doing some follow-up on the Burton family, and it looks like you were right. Jim Burton is still in town, or at least, he’s not far away.”
“Thanks for telling me. I guess you don’t want him to know that you know, huh?”
“That’s right. I can’t say much, but I didn’t want you to think I don’t value what you gave us yesterday. We’ve been looking into it, and I believe he’s been in touch with his family. But that’s just between us.”
“Okay.”
Neil had stood and was waiting for her. As they put on their coats, Kate resolved not to ask him any questions about the case that afternoon. She didn’t have to work again until Monday, and if the case split wide open this weekend and they caught Jim Burton, she would let someone else write it. But somehow she didn’t think things were moving too fast. Neil was taking her to visit Oma as scheduled, and Connor was relaxing at home in jeans and a T-shirt. If he thought he would be rushing out on business, he wouldn’t be so laid-back.
On their drive to the Pines, she held the small container of cookies she had brought as a gift for the older woman. Neil asked her about her father’s farm in Skowhegan, and she got him to tell her a little more about his family.
“Will you pray for them, Kate? My folks seem to think they’re all right spiritually, because they’re nice people. But they don’t understand that’s not enough. They need Jesus.”
She felt tears rush into her eyes. “I will. From what you’ve told me, you’ve tried hard to get that across.”
“Maybe too hard. The last time I said something to my sister Anneke, she told me she doesn’t want me to talk about it around her anymore, so I don’t very much.”
“I’ll ask God to bring the right opportunity,” Kate said. “Maybe He’ll bring someone else along to share the gospel with them. Sometimes families don’t want to hear it from their own.”
Neil reached over and squeezed her hand. “Thanks. I can’t quit trying. So, did you get the rest of your boxes moved this morning?”
“No. I called, and Madyson wasn’t home. I left a message, but she only called me back an hour ago, and there wasn’t time. I’ll have to get them Monday before work, I guess.” Kate shook her head. “She made it sound like it was urgent, and now I can’t connect with her.”
When they reached the retirement home, Oma Alexander was waiting for them in the large lounge. Neil took Kate’s hand and led her forward.
“Dag, Oma.” He bent down to kiss the old woman’s cheek. “I’d like you to meet Kate Richards.”
“Sit, sit.” Oma’s plump pink cheeks jiggled as she patted the seat beside her on the sofa. Her white hair was arranged in a braid, pulled to the back of her head. “I have heard about you.”
“You have?” K
ate looked up at Neil, but he just grinned and sat down in an armchair nearby.
“Oh, ja, my grandson is close with his personal life, but he tells me things now and then.”
Kate smiled and held out the small, decorative box. “I brought you something.”
Oma took the box and lifted the cover. “Ah, Cornelius must have told you I have a sweet tooth. Dank je.”
“I’ll carry it down to your room for you after we talk, Oma,” Neil said.
Kate settled back against the firm cushions. “How long have you lived in Maine, Mrs. Alexander?”
Neil’s grandmother waved her hand and crinkled up her face. “Call me Oma.”
“All right. Thank you…Oma.”
“I have been here a long time. Too long.”
“Oh? Do you miss the Netherlands?”
“Ja, I don’t like all this snow and ice. We had snow in Holland, but not like this. But it will pass.”
A woman pushed a tea cart into the room, and Neil said, “Oma, would you like some tea?”
“Dank je,” said Oma with a nod.
“Kate?”
“Yes, please.”
“He’s a good boy,” his grandmother whispered when he’d turned his back. “He is very serious about his work and his religion.”
“Yes, he’s dedicated to both,” Kate agreed.
“My daughter-in-law, Hendrika, she thinks he is niet gezellig.”
Kate frowned.
Oma chuckled and patted her hand. “He doesn’t do what his family would like, you know. He missed her big dinner Christmas Day, for one. And he wouldn’t stay late to play cards that night.” She shook her head, smiling. “The holidays are very important to the Dutch, you know. But perhaps he knows what is really important, nee?”
Kate smiled. “I think you may be right. Oma, would you mind if I asked you some questions about Holland and wrote down your answers? I’d like to write a story about you and how you came to live here.”
“Cornelius told me you are a writer for the biggest paper in all of Maine.”
“Yes, that’s true.”
“But you don’t want to put me in the paper.”
“Why not?” Kate asked.
“You think people want to read about an old woman?”
“Yes, I do. I know you have some wonderful memories of Holland. Neil told me how you used to skate to school, and how your father owned a dairy near an old castle.”
“Oh, ja, that was a long time ago.” Neil handed Oma her teacup, and she settled back in her seat. “If you really want to hear…”
“I most certainly do.” Already Kate could envision her feature story with a picture of the darling old woman in the Sunday leisure section. Chatting with Oma was almost enough to distract her from thinking about the murders and the fugitive the police were hunting.
That evening, she sat in the truck and closed her eyes as Neil drove her home. The day had been perfect. Well, from two o’clock on. Tea with Oma. Perusing her photos of the Netherlands. Dinner with Neil, followed by the magnificent show at the Civic Center. This day went beyond her most lavish imaginings. She felt Neil’s hand on hers and looked over at him.
“Not sleeping, are you?” he asked softly.
“No, just…fixing the memories.” She wrapped her fingers in his and felt the delicious warmth of his hand.
“The horses were great, weren’t they?”
She smiled. “I wasn’t thinking about the horses.”
When they arrived at the Larson home, he hopped out, and she made herself sit and pull her gloves on while he walked around the truck and opened the door for her.
“Thanks.”
They walked up to the breezeway together. A cold wind cut across the neighborhood, whistling down the street. Kate shivered.
“Come in for a minute?”
Neil shrugged. “Looks like they’ve buttoned down for the night.”
Kate tried the doorknob, but the door was locked. She pulled her key ring out and unlocked the door.
“Good night,” Neil said. Their eyes met, and he slowly leaned down and gently grazed her lips with his.
She smiled and put her gloved hand up to his cheek. “Thank you, for everything, Neil. Good night.” With a little wave, Kate slipped through the front door and closed it softly behind her.
On Monday morning, Kate left the house early, determined to retrieve her boxes from the old apartment across town before going to the office. The idyllic weekend, which had included church and Sunday dinner with Adrienne’s family and Neil, had almost lulled her into thinking she could happily live a quiet life.
But today she was back in high gear, ready to ferret out another front-page story. Something big was out there waiting for her to discover it; she could feel it.
She headed her car into the West End of town, toward the apartment. Madyson came to the door yawning, wearing only her nightshirt.
“I’m sorry,” Kate said. “I’m on my way to work. I’ll just get my stuff and get out of your hair.”
She quickly loaded her three cartons of books and tapes and headed back toward Congress Street. As she passed a pancake house, her eye was drawn to a tall young man getting out of a vehicle. She started to brake, but restrained the impulse and glided past. When she was sure she was out of sight, she pulled into a parking lot and turned around. She went back to the restaurant and drove in. The car was still there, and she glimpsed a familiar figure in the driver’s seat. Her pulse quickened, and she nosed into a parking spot and lunged for her cell phone.
“Neil! I just saw Stephen Burton go into a pancake restaurant, and his father is sitting outside in a car.” She leaned forward as she gave him her location, trying to see through the windows of the vehicles between her car and Burton’s.
“Kate, get out of there,” Neil said. “Stephen will recognize you if he sees you.”
“He went in alone. Do you think he’s meeting someone?”
“He’s probably getting breakfast for his father. Jim Burton can’t show his face in public. His picture’s been all over the media, as you well know. Can you be seen from the entrance? How about through the windows?”
“Uh…probably.” She swallowed hard. “I can duck if he comes out.”
“Look, I’ve got Connor and Tony. We’re on our way. Just drive on out, and keep driving. Go to work, and I’ll call you later.”
“But I won’t—”
“No, Kate! Listen to me. You mean too much to me. If something happens to you because of your stubbornness, I don’t know what I’d do. Plus, you might blow our best chance of nabbing Burton. Now get moving before Stephen comes out and spots you.”
He hung up, and she stared at her phone. “I can’t believe he hung up on me. Of course, he did admit that he cares.”
Movement caught her eye then, and she glanced toward the restaurant. Her heart did a handspring. Stephen Burton was coming out the door, and she was certain he looked her way. He kept walking toward his father’s car, balancing a paper bag and a tray containing two covered cups.
She sat still, afraid to move a muscle. When he was out of her vision between the cars, she exhaled. He must not have seen her, or at least he hadn’t recognized her. Now what? She couldn’t drive out or he might notice her. Had he seen her car the day she’d interviewed him? Impossible to be sure. She decided to sit tight until they drove out. If they left before the police arrived, she could watch and see which way they went.
Pulling out her notebook, she jotted the name of the restaurant and its location. She tried again to see the other car, but an SUV between them was higher and blocked her view. Stretching, she lifted her head and sat tall. She could see just a bit of the dark green car’s roofline. They must be sitting in the car, eating their food. It struck her that if she could take a picture of the car on her cell phone, it might help the police.
No, that would be stupid. Neil would never speak to her again, for sure.
Even as she rejected the thought, her hand clos
ed on the door handle. The latch unhooked, but before she could open the door, more people came out of the restaurant. She froze and looked away, but suddenly she realized the people were headed for the SUV next to her car. After they got in and pulled away, she took a quick look to her right. With only one car left between them, she had a clear view of the green car. She could see Stephen sitting in the front passenger seat, sipping his drink and looking forward, toward the restaurant. The driver’s seat was empty.
Kate felt suddenly cold inside. Where was Jim Burton? A sudden instinct told her to close and lock her door. She started to swing it open so she could slam it, but something held it back. She looked up to see Jim Burton—or rather, Joseph Parlin—as he restrained her door, holding it open six inches. He was wearing the toupee and the brown contact lenses. The thought skimmed through her mind as she lowered her gaze and focused on the muzzle of the small handgun he was pointing straight at her.
“Miss Richards, I’m a big fan. I’ve been following your articles for a couple of weeks now. Won’t you join my son and me for coffee?”
FIFTEEN
“We’ll owe Kate big-time if we can get Burton this morning,” Connor said as they sped down Congress Street in Neil’s pickup. “Roberta Palmer’s finally got the picture that she and Jim Burton are not going to retire together.”
“Is the district attorney going to cut her a deal?” Neil asked, keeping an eye on Tony’s Mustang in his rearview mirror.
“Sounds like it. When I told her we managed to keep Burton from getting the building fund money he had transferred and spelled out her options for her, she told me how they planned this thing.”
“Even the murders?” Neil asked.
“Yeah. She wanted to make sure we knew she didn’t pull the trigger. She heard Ted telling Edna something was wrong, and that he thought Mr. Burton was a bad apple.”
“Just a vague suspicion?”
“No, apparently Ted had heard Burton say something incriminating. Roberta wasn’t exactly sure how much he knew, but she insists he knew about their plans. He looked daggers at her all morning, and she eavesdropped on him and Edna while they were bathing the puppies. She heard Ted say the Society had better not trust Burton, and that he thought he had his eye on the building fund. That was on Christmas Eve. Roberta went straight to Jim. They tried to come up with some way to stop the two from telling anyone else. Jim wasn’t sure what they could do, but he improvised a way to get their house keys. Roberta told them that the parking lot was going to be plowed, and she’d move their cars for them. They both handed over their key rings. She went and moved their cars to the other side of the lot, and Jim went out and took the keys from her. She avoided Edna and Ted for an hour or so, and Jim brought the keys back. Then she went in all apologetic and returned them. Made an excuse, like she’d had to run to the bank or something.”
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