EIGHTEEN
Becky checked the address on her note and compared it to the number etched in gold on the plaque in the front yard of what she could only describe as a modern mansion. Three elegant stories, tall graceful windows, glittering crystal in the wide double doors. She battled a fit of nerves as she turned onto the circular driveway. Maybe she should have called Isabelle first. The police might already have been here, and it would be so embarrassing to be thrown out on her ear. But if they hadn’t questioned her yet, Becky wanted to warn her that they might be coming.
Feeling like a poor relation, she pulled her bedraggled car beneath the arched portico and cut the engine. She clutched the steering wheel, gathering her nerve, then got out of the car. She paused in the act of locking the doors. Nobody would bother breaking into her old Chevy in a ritzy neighborhood like this one.
The exquisite front door opened the moment her foot reached the topmost brick step. When it did, cigar-scented air rushed outward. A dark-haired man who seemed to be all legs looked down on her from a lofty height, his expression one of polite inquiry. When she noticed a slight flaring of his hawklike nostrils, Becky bit back a nervous giggle.
“I’m here to see Isabelle Keller. My name is Becky Dennison.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, in a voice that denied it, “but Miss Keller isn’t home this afternoon.”
She knew she should have called. She gave the man a bright smile. “Will you tell her I dropped by, and ask her to call me?”
“Lawrence, who’re you talking to?” A man’s deep voice sounded from somewhere inside the house.
Lawrence turned his head and spoke without moving. “Someone to see Miss Keller.”
“Well, don’t leave her standing outside. Bring her in.”
Lawrence paused only a second, long enough for Becky to wish she’d taken the time to refresh her lipstick, then stepped backward and opened the door wider. Becky stepped into an entry hall that belonged in Buckingham Palace. Marble everywhere, on the floors, the staircase, the tops of antique tables scattered all around. When the door closed behind her, the late-afternoon sunlight pouring through the glass cast dancing rainbows across the floor.
Movement to her right drew her attention. A man stood from a wing chair and stooped over an ashtray to put out his cigar before coming toward her. This man wasn’t much taller than Becky, with a thick neck and muscular arms that bulged like one of Jamie’s toy action figures. She recognized him from the newspapers.
“Mr. Keller, my name is Becky Dennison. I’m a friend of Isabelle’s.”
His hand engulfed hers, and he studied her face with small, piercing eyes. “I don’t think I’ve heard Izzy mention your name.”
Becky fought the impulse to look away. “Actually, we just met last week when she stopped by the place I work.”
“And where is that?”
“Out to Pasture. I work in the office.”
Something flared in his eyes that made Becky want to take a step backward. But it was gone before she could identify it. “I see. Please come in and sit down.” He gestured toward an empty wing chair on the other side of a marble-topped table from his. “Can I have Lawrence bring you a drink?”
As she sat, she noticed a half-full glass beside the ashtray. From the smell of it, it was something alcoholic. At four-fifteen in the afternoon?
She perched on the edge of the seat cushion, ankles crossed, and held her purse in her lap. “No, thank you. I can’t stay long.”
With a glance of dismissal at Lawrence, Mr. Keller reseated himself and turned to look at her full-on. “You’re the one who found the money. In a bag of dog food, I heard.”
Becky straightened. She didn’t know the discovery was public information.
He must have seen her surprise, because he explained. “I have friends at State Police Headquarters in Frankfort.”
She remembered what Scott said about charges against Mr. Keller always being dropped. “I see.”
Ice clinked against the sides of his glass when he picked it up. “Did my Izzy talk to you, tell you she’d been seeing Haldeman?”
Becky watched his hand as he swirled the liquid. Those hands were huge, and strong. Strong enough to kill a man with a hoof pick? Or maybe strangle him in his sleep?
A tickle of fear made her palms begin to sweat. She wiped them on her slacks. “Yes, she did.”
A blast of humorless laughter shook his shoulders. “He was toying with her. He did that, toyed with women just to get money out of them for those precious horses of his. I warned her, but she wouldn’t listen.” His jowls drooped as he stared at the carpet in front of his chair. When he spoke again, it was almost a whisper. “She wouldn’t listen. And now what will happen to her?”
He knew. Becky was suddenly sure that Isabelle’s father knew of her pregnancy.
“Mr. Keller,” she said gently, “maybe he did toy with women in the past, but a man can change. Maybe Neal really loved Isabelle.”
“Ha!” He jerked upright and some of the liquor splashed out of his glass onto his pants. He didn’t appear to notice. “He didn’t. Know how I know?”
The last came out slurred. The man was drunk.
Lord, please get me out of here in one piece!
Becky kept her voice calm, though fear was creeping up her spine to brush prickly fingers at the back of her neck. “How do you know?”
He went still, staring into her eyes for a long moment. “Because I paid him to leave her and the baby alone. Gave him two hundred fifty thousand dollars. And he took it.” He held the glass to his lips, staring into it. “He took it.”
“How long have you known about the baby?”
“Since Izzy found out. She took one of those test things, and left it in the trash can. Lawrence found it, brought it to me.” He jerked his head upright and glared at her. “Don’t tell her I know. I want her to come to me on her own.”
Becky sat back in the chair. The money had come from Isabelle’s father. A bribe. Not a horse race. Had Neal told his bookies he had the money to pay them off? Who knew about it besides Mr. Keller?
She leaned forward. “Did you break into Out to Pasture to get your money back?”
He put his head back and laughed. “You’re smart, you are. You should work for the police. They wouldn’t have been able to figure it out if I hadn’t told ’em.”
“You confessed?”
He shrugged. “It’s okay. I turned over everything I took. Fifty bucks in cash, which made it look like a real robbery, and the files. I figured they’d be happy to get those records, once I saw what they were. They probably can’t use it as evidence, but at least they have it.” He shook his head. “Never thought to look in the dog food, though.”
If he broke into the office, did he also break into the barn? She couldn’t help staring at those strong hands.
He followed her glance and laughed. “No, I didn’t kill him.” He flexed his fingers into a fist. “I could have, I was that mad. But I figured paying him off was a better way. And I was right. Izzy will see that sooner or later. She didn’t know about the others, she believed him when he told her he loved her. But I knew better. I had him watched. He was having an affair with a married woman at the same time he was seeing my Izzy.”
“An affair?” Becky’s clutch on her purse tightened. “Mr. Keller, do you know who he was seeing?”
“Of course.” He set the drink down. “Leslie Stevens. His next-door neighbor’s wife. The scumbag.”
Becky’s mouth fell open. No way! She had met Leslie several times, because she came to the Pasture often. She and her husband, Nick, were regular donors.
“Did you tell the police?”
He scowled. “Why should I? The woman has bad taste in men, but I see no sense in dragging her into a mess. Let the dead stay dead, and leave the living alone, that’s my motto.”
Becky watched him pick up his cigar, glance at her and put it down again. She stood.
“I really must be going, M
r. Keller. Please tell Isabelle I stopped by.”
He didn’t get out of the chair as Becky practically ran to the front door. She felt the weight of his stare on her back as she slipped outside, not breathing freely until she was in her car with the doors locked.
She glanced at her watch. She couldn’t be late picking up the boys. The day care center charged a dollar a minute after closing time. And she had to get home to put dinner on before Scott arrived. Now’s when she wished she had a cell phone, so she could call the police before the boys got in the car. She had to tell them she’d discovered the identity of the L in the note.
“What are we having?”
Jamie’s tone, as usual, told Becky he expected the worst.
She’d managed to regain her composure before she arrived at the day care center by reminding herself that there was nothing time sensitive in the revelation of the mysterious L. She could pull Jeff Whitley aside at church tonight. That would be soon enough.
“Cheeseburgers, Tater Tots and a salad.”
“Woo-hoo!” Tyler danced in his seat, arms pumping the air. Thank goodness for seat belts.
A glance in the rearview mirror showed her Jamie’s scowl. “I don’t like salad.”
“I know you don’t. But you can at least eat a tomato and a cucumber.”
She grinned at his dramatic sigh of woe.
As she turned the corner onto her street, Becky looked automatically toward her house. Odd. There was an unfamiliar car in the driveway. And was that a man sitting on her front stoop?
Her pulse picked up speed as she slowed the car. Had Mr. Keller realized he’d talked too much? Did he send someone to her house to warn her to keep her mouth shut?
“Who’s at our house?” asked Jamie.
“I don’t know.”
She’d drive right past, go around the block and leave. But where could she go? She faced forward while trying to get a look at the guy as she drove by. Maybe she’d go to Amber’s house. Maybe—
Her foot slammed the brake pedal. The car came to a screeching halt just beyond her driveway. She knew that man.
She pulled forward to the curb in front of her next-door neighbor’s house and parked.
When she turned off the engine, the rear door opened and Tyler tumbled out to the sidewalk, Jamie right behind. Becky jerked her door open and grabbed their shirts before they got three steps away from the car.
“You two stay here.” She directed her sternest stare at both boys. “Do not move. Do you understand me?”
Her tone promised dire consequences, and they got the message. Wide-eyed, they nodded and backed up to lean against the car. She took a bracing breath and faced her house. This could not be happening. Not tonight. Not in front of the boys.
As she walked down the sidewalk, the man stood. “I thought that was you.”
“Christopher, what are you doing here?”
“I came to see my wife and sons.” He flashed the lopsided grin she remembered so well. Her stomach clenched in response.
“Ex-wife.”
“Whatever.”
He hopped down the concrete stairs and came toward her, arms extended. She took a step backward, warning him with a glare to keep his distance.
“Whoa, a little touchy, aren’t you?”
“And why wouldn’t I be?” She didn’t even try to filter her tone. “Did you expect me to welcome you with open arms like nothing’s happened? After four years without a word?”
His hands dropped to his sides. “Trust me, I wasn’t any good for anybody these past few years. You wouldn’t have wanted me around.” His voice softened. “But a day hasn’t gone by that I didn’t think of you and the twins, Becky.”
Was that actual contrition she heard in his voice? She eyed him suspiciously. Chris could charm a T-bone from a hungry bear. It was one of his talents.
“And now?”
He looked her straight in the eye. “I’m getting things back on track. I’ve got a steady job down in Florida doing landscaping for a big corporation.” His shoulders jerked with a silent laugh. “They actually pay me to dig in the dirt. Turns out I’m good at something after all. Wouldn’t my old man have been surprised if he’d lived?”
Becky fought against a wave of sympathy, which made her angry. She didn’t want to feel sorry for the man who deserted her with two little babies. “You were good at lots of things,” she said, grudgingly. “Just not good at sticking with them.”
“Yeah, well, that’s all changing.” He craned his neck toward her car. “Are those the boys? I’ll bet I won’t even recognize them.”
Oh, he’d recognize them all right. He saw them every day in the mirror. Becky realized anew how much her sons looked like their father.
“I wish you had called first, Christopher. They were babies when you left. They don’t remember you. I need to prepare them.”
“Prepare them for what? I’m their father.” His smile tightened. “I figure since I’m paying child support, I might as well exercise my visitation rights.”
She spoke through clenched teeth. “You don’t pay for the privilege of seeing your children. You pay for the responsibility of raising them. And you haven’t done your fair share of that.”
“I know, I know.” He held his hands out, fingers splayed, and took another step toward her. “Are we going to argue about this right now? I’ve come a long way, and I’d like to see my sons.” His arms dropped to his sides and he tried another smile on her. “I’ve looked forward to seeing you, too, Becky. I’ve really missed you.”
For one instant, time stopped. A bird in a distant tree fell silent. The light breeze that tickled her hair stilled. Even her heart seemed to pause in her chest.
How many times had she dreamed of hearing those words from Christopher? She fell in love with him on the first day of their freshman year in high school, and had never loved another. After he left she’d lost count of the number of nights her aching heart kept her awake in bed, knowing he would never share it again. Why should he, when so many other women welcomed him to theirs?
The wind stirred the grass at her feet. The bird resumed its song. Her heart thudded to life. The Lord had soothed her hurts, healed the wounds Christopher had inflicted. But the scars remained, and they were a little more tender than she’d realized.
“I’m a Christian now, Chris. I live a different life than the one we shared.”
A scowl drew his eyebrows together. “Your father got to you, did he?”
She smiled. He always disliked Daddy. And the feeling was definitely mutual. “Yes, my Father got to me. But not the one you think.”
“Mommy?” They both turned to look at her car. Tyler had taken a few steps toward them. “Can we go in the house now? Jamie’s gotta go to the bathroom.”
“Would you look at him!” Christopher’s face broke into a wide grin of genuine delight.
Before she could react, he ran down the sidewalk and stopped in front of them, his arms thrown wide. “Hey, you guys. It’s me, your long lost daddy.”
The look Tyler threw her way was pure confusion. If only she’d had time to talk to them first, tell them what to expect. She infused her smile with as much confidence as she could, and nodded at him.
Christopher picked Tyler up and whirled him around. “You play ball, don’t you?”
The boy looked uncertainly toward her. “We just started T-ball.”
“I thought so. Look at that.” He squeezed the muscle on Tyler’s arm. “That’s the arm of a ballplayer if I ever saw one.”
Becky reached the car as Christopher bent down to eye-level in front of Jamie. “How ’bout you, big guy? Do you play ball, too?”
Jamie nodded slowly, his dark eyes suspicious.
Christopher straightened. “Good, because I brought you guys a present.”
Tyler’s expression lightened. “What kind of present?”
“Everything you need to set up your own practice field in the backyard. A real batting tee, and helmets, and
a practice screen, a glove for each of you, and a couple of real Louisville Slugger bats.”
Becky bit back a sarcastic comment about the cost of all that equipment. Apparently having his paycheck garnisheed hadn’t reduced him to poverty level.
Tyler was duly impressed. “Wow!” He did a victory dance on the sidewalk.
Jamie wasn’t as easy to win over. “I already have a glove.”
“Not like this one, buddy.” Christopher’s face lit with enthusiasm. “This is made out of top-grade premium steer hide, with extra padding in the palm to protect your hand from stinging line drives.”
“Where is it?” Tyler raced toward their driveway. “Is that your car?”
Christopher straightened and called after Tyler. “Yep. Drove it all the way from Florida. That’s where I live, right down the street from Disney World.”
Jamie’s gaze flicked from Becky to his father. “You live by Disney World?”
Christopher was pushing, true, but at least he seemed to be pushing the right buttons.
He grinned at Jamie. “That’s right. But I haven’t ever been. I’ve been waiting until you guys could go with me.”
She cast a look of warning his way. He was good at making promises he couldn’t keep. She wouldn’t stand by and watch him disappoint her sons.
“Come on. Let’s go put up the practice screen.” He held out a hand toward Jamie.
The boy hesitated, looking toward his mother as though for permission. What could she do? He had been a louse of a husband, and a completely absent parent. But he was their father.
She unclenched her jaw enough to give Jamie a reassuring smile. “Let’s do that.”
Christopher grinned with triumph when Jamie clasped his hand. Together they jogged down the sidewalk, Becky following slowly behind.
Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it,” shouted both boys.
“No, let me.”
Becky rushed to grab a paper towel to wipe the raw hamburger off her hands. She’d tried to call Scott, to explain why she had to cancel their plans this evening. But she wasn’t able to get him on his cell.
Bluegrass Peril Page 13
