by Rita Herron
She ignored the question. “I won’t get in the way,” Sydney promised. “But this is about me. I have to be there.”
“You’d better stay in the background,” Raeburn warned.
“He’s right, Sydney.” Collin shot her a black look. “The woman is armed—that means she’s dangerous.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with his thumb. “Promise me you won’t interfere.”
“I promise,” Sydney said, her breath catching.
The elevator dinged and the doors opened. Raeburn led the way and policemen quickly filled the hallway. Raeburn pointed for her to stand behind them. “Let me have that bullhorn.”
Raeburn snatched it from the officer and raised it to his mouth. “Mrs. McKenzie, this is Sergeant Raeburn of the Beaufort Police Department. We’d like to talk to you.”
The door swung open to reveal a short, skinny woman with stringy brown hair and a baggy old-fashioned dress waving a gun. Steve Wallace sat glued to his chair, his face ashen.
“Talking won’t do any good!” the woman cried. “It’s too late for that.”
Sydney held her breath as Raeburn tried to coax her into surrendering. “We found your husband, Mrs. McKenzie,” Raeburn said. “It wasn’t a pretty sight. Do you think Wallace killed him? Is that why you came here?”
“He cheated my husband, just like that no-account Doug Green did!” Mrs. McKenzie shrieked. “We deserved better. We worked hard all our lives.”
Collin reached for the bullhorn. “Let me talk to her.”
“Mrs. McKenzie, this is Collin Cash. I talked to Mr. Wallace earlier about the problem you had with the deal for the weight-loss drink.”
“My husband created that formula—he should have been given credit!” the woman wailed. “And he never signed no licensing agreement with that Mr. Green.”
“I understand that,” Collin said calmly. “And I understand how upset you must have been. But please put down the gun, ma’am.”
“I tried to persuade him to take the settlement,” she whimpered. “I tried, but he wouldn’t listen to me. He wouldn’t settle, said Mr. Wallace here wanted him to go through that patent association. All that red tape—it’d take forever....” Her voice broke into sobs and Sydney’s heart went out to her.
“Mrs. McKenzie, don’t you see that hurting Mr. Wallace isn’t going to help?” Collin asked.
“But now Spade is gone!” she cried. “He wouldn’t listen to me and we argued...” Her voice transformed from a wretched sob into an angry, fevered pitch. “I told him what to do, but he wouldn’t listen. I told him to get rid of Green, to stand up for himself, but he was such a wimp...always a wimp.”
“It’s all right, Mrs. McKenzie, we’ll help you,” Collin promised. “Just put down the gun, and we’ll make sure everyone learns your husband invented the formula.” Collin inched his way into the room and Sydney held her breath, but he continued talking softly, waving his hand in a calming gesture. “We’ll investigate Green’s files and see if he forged the agreement. We’ll make sure everyone knows the truth. Wallace will cooperate, won’t you, Wallace?”
Wallace’s chin bobbed up and down.
“And any money due you will be placed into an account for your family. You have kids, don’t you?” Collin asked.
“Yes.” The woman’s face crumbled as she lowered her head, sobbing. Collin moved like lightning, wrestling the gun from her. She didn’t struggle. She wailed, then collapsed into his arms in a heap, her body racking violently with sobs.
Tears streamed down Sydney’s cheeks in a surge of pity for the woman and the depths she’d gone to. Raeburn and the other officers moved in, quickly taking charge. Collin braced the woman around the waist so she wouldn’t fall, then handed her over to two officers.
“Mrs. McKenzie, you killed your husband, didn’t you?” Raeburn asked.
The woman nodded again, her pale face red and swollen. “I wanted him to stand up for himself, to get what was ours....”
“And what about Doug Green? You killed him, too?”
“He deserved to die for what he done to my husband!” she screeched. “That man deserved to die!”
Sydney pressed her hand to her stomach. Despite all the pain Mrs. McKenzie’s actions had caused her, compassion for the couple overwhelmed her. The husband dead, the wife arrested—their children would be traumatized. Another disastrous legacy from Doug.
WHEN COLLIN DROVE Sydney back to her house, she stared listlessly out the window. Physically and emotionally exhausted and more confused than ever, she couldn’t think of a word to say.
“Raeburn will drop all the charges against you,” Collin said as he pulled into her drive. “Once they record Mrs. McKenzie’s confession.”
Sydney nodded, grateful but numb from the evening’s ordeal. Collin parked the car, then walked her to the door. She fumbled with the key and he took it and let them in, then he stood in the doorway as if he didn’t know what to do.
She turned to him, her heart lodged in her throat. “Thank you for everything you did,” she said weakly.
He shook his head. “I’m glad it’s over for you, Sydney.”
“Me, too.”
“You look exhausted.”
She fingered her hair away from her face, leaning against the doorjamb, suddenly too tired to stand.
He brushed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “Get some rest, okay?”
“I will.” She looked into his eyes. This would be the last time she would see him. “I appreciate your finishing the case and...and for believing in my innocence.”
She saw a host of emotions in the dark gray depths of his eyes, but confusion clouded her mind. Doug and all his lies...Collin and Doug’s eyes, Collin holding her, loving her all through the night—
“I fight for the things I care about, Sydney. And whether or not you believe it, I’m not like Doug. I’m not a liar.”
Her lower lip trembled. “I suppose you’ll be going back to Charleston now that your debt is paid.”
He shrugged, then lifted a finger and stroked her chin, his voice thick. “I never meant to hurt you. I care—”
She swallowed against the lump in her throat and cut him off, “Goodbye, Collin.”
Then she hurried inside and closed the door, her heart constricting as she watched him through the window. He walked down the steps, then turned and stared at her house for a long time, his expression troubled, the planes of his face shadowed in the moonlight. Then he climbed into his car and drove away, his taillights disappearing down the road, leaving nothing but the empty darkness behind.
She sagged against the door, feeling as if she were breaking in two, hating herself for ever entertaining the idea of a future with another man.
COLIIN SPENT A TORMENTED NIGHT at a small hotel on the outskirts of town, the plain walls and furnishings a reminder of his empty apartment and life back in Charleston. He’d wanted to stay with Sydney so badly he ached, had contemplated begging her for forgiveness, but the strain and exhaustion evident on her face had stopped him from pressuring her. He didn’t want her to succumb to him out of fatigue or duress. He wanted her love.
And she’d been saying good-bye.
He rolled over in the bed and clutched the pillow, remembering the scent of jasmine but inhaling the odor of utilitarian laundry soap, instead. He couldn’t blame Sydney for not trusting him. Look at all the trouble her first husband had caused. The only decent thing the man had ever done was give Collin his eyes. And now, Collin wondered if that had been a blessing or a curse in disguise.
THE NEXT MORNING Sydney went through the motions of living, even dragged herself to her photography studio. With the news of her arrest, she wasn’t surprised no one had called to reschedule an appointment. She guessed the morning paper hadn’t received the news of McKenzie’s wife’s arrest in time to print it, but still, she knew the townspeople would be wary. Her reputation had been tainted. It would take time to build business back up. Or maybe she would move, she thought. Someplace
where no one knew her. A place where she could start over and leave the shame and humiliation of the past few weeks behind her.
COLLIN HAD TO MAKE SURE the case was tied up, but first he drove by Sydney’s. When he didn’t see her car, he swung by her studio. The rental car was there, parked out front. He itched to go in, but decided to give her time, so he spent the day at the police station. Something had been nagging at him all night, but he wasn’t exactly sure what it was.
After much arguing, Raeburn allowed him to see the things confiscated from Doug’s pockets the night of the murder. With gloved hands, he examined Green’s keys, a motel receipt, two parking tickets, a few bills, then his wallet, frustrated when the contents revealed nothing. Damn, he wished he knew what he was looking for!
The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. There was something he still didn’t understand—if McKenzie’s wife had killed Doug, why would she want to kill Sydney? Sydney hadn’t known about the forged deals. Mrs. McKenzie had been incoherent. She’d hated Green, she’d said he deserved to die, but had she ever truly confessed?
He refolded the billfold but the leather felt stiff in one spot, so he opened it again and found a small photograph lodged in one of the slits for credit cards. He carefully examined it, expecting to find a picture of Sydney. Instead, he discovered a worn photograph of a baby, a baby with big brown eyes. His fingers tightened around the snapshot. He’d seen those eyes before. Then he flipped the picture over and read the words scribbled: “To you, Daddy.”
Green had a child with someone else. Someone who stood to inherit Green’s estate. Especially if Sydney died.
He headed to the door, his heart pounding. He had to see Sydney immediately. She might still be in danger.
DECODING TO CALL IT a day, Sydney grabbed her briefcase and walked to her car. The town seemed unusually quiet. The streets were practically empty, as if everyone had decided to take a rest. Or maybe they were all avoiding her, she thought, then chided herself for being paranoid.
The sweltering heat sucked the air from her lungs. She climbed in the rental sedan, knowing she should begin the search for a new car soon, but feeling too apathetic to get excited about the prospect.
Dusk settled around her, obliterating the hazy remnants of the sunset. As she turned onto the main road, she glanced into the rearview mirror. A utility vehicle was bearing down on her. She turned right at the stop and so did it. Her pulse jumped. She turned onto a side street and the car behind her also turned. Then she made a U-turn at the next block and the vehicle behind her did the same.
The relief she’d experienced the night before faded into fear as the car drew closer. The nightmare wasn’t over, after all. Someone was following her.
Chapter Fourteen
Sydney’s gaze darted to the rearview mirror, her mind screaming with panic. McKenzie was dead and his wife was in jail—who could be after her now? She wove around the winding road, maneuvering through the small town until she thought she’d lost her tail. When she cut across three intersections and didn’t see the utility vehicle, she exhaled shakily and sped toward her house.
Her imagination was probably working overtime, she realized as she stopped in the driveway.
A car door slammed behind her and she glanced up and recognized Kelly’s red Cherokee. Thank God, Kelly was walking toward her. Sagging against the steering wheel, she steadied her breathing, then climbed out of her car.
“Hey, Sydney,” Kelly said. “I picked up some Chinese and a bottle of wine. Mrs. Bailey’s keeping Megan tonight. Want some company?”
“I would love some company,” Sydney said, thankful she wouldn’t have to face her empty house alone. “Come on in.”
Kelly retrieved the bags of takeout and the wine and followed Sydney inside. “I’m glad it was you.” Sydney helped her friend unload the cartons of food. “I was getting paranoid. For a minute I thought someone was following me.”
“God, it’s no wonder. You’ve been through so much. I heard on the news they arrested a woman for Doug’s death.”
“Yeah, McKenzie’s wife.”
Kelly removed dishes from the cabinet as Sydney explained the incident at Norvek. Then she filled their plates while Kelly poured wine in two crystal glasses. They sat on the couch in the den. “Thank goodness, it’s over,” Sydney said. “I actually felt sorry for the woman when they took her away. She was crying so hard she was barely coherent.”
“It must have been terrible for you,” Kelly said sympathetically. “And being arrested, I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to help, Syd.”
Sydney reached over and squeezed Kelly’s hand. “Thanks, Kel. Your friendship means a lot to me.”
Tears pooled in Kelly’s eyes. “And yours means a lot to me, Sydney.”
Kelly wiped a tear from her eye, then settled down and took a bite of chicken. “Where’s that hunk who’s been hanging around here?”
“Who? Collin?” Sydney sipped her wine, then shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably back in Charleston by now.”
Kelly seemed thoughtful for a minute. “I thought you two had a thing going. Was I wrong?”
Sydney sighed, raking fried rice around on her plate with her chopsticks. “It’s complicated.”
“Meg’s spending the night, Sydney,” Kelly said softly. “I have all night.”
She and Kelly had always shared everything, so Sydney found herself pouring out the whole story, all about the transplant, Collin’s being a cop, her feelings for him and even the visions he’d described.
“That’s unbelievable.” Kelly waved her chopsticks in the air. “Is he still having them?”
“I don’t know. Now that the police have Doug’s murder solved, maybe they’ll stop and he can go back to his normal life.” She took another sip of wine and yawned.
“You look tired, Syd.”
“I am,” Sydney admitted. “The last few weeks have been so stressful.” She stretched her legs and kicked off her shoes. “But I’m grateful Doug’s killer is in jail and I’m not. Maybe my nightmares will finally go away.”
Kelly raised her glass for a toast. “Let’s drink to that.”
Sydney frowned as their glasses clinked. “Although something’s still bothering me about McKenzie’s wife.”
“What?” Kelly asked, her eyebrows knitted.
Sydney scratched her temple in thought. “She never actually said she shot Doug, just that he deserved to die.”
Kelly finished her food. “I’m sure the police will drag the truth out of her. Don’t worry. about it tonight, Syd. You deserve to relax.”
Sydney traced her finger around the rim of her glass, for the first time since Doug’s murder, trying to envision her future. A future that didn’t include a man. Especially Collin Cash, the man who’d taken away the sting of Doug’s betrayal, given her a few fleeting moments of passion and hope, then left her with a broken heart.
COLLIN’S MIND REELED. The memory of Doug’s love affairs surfaced and an uneasy feeling tightened his chest. Marla. The mistress. There was someone else. He’d never asked Sydney about her friend Kelly or her baby’s father. What if Doug had fathered the baby? It would explain why he’d found the photograph of Kelly’s baby in Green’s wallet.
Snippets of his conversations with Sydney raced through his head. “Kelly used to be a nurse....”
He stared at the picture again. A woman’s voice drifted into his mind. “I need to talk to you, Doctor.” Darber had sounded annoyed “Wait in my office. ”
Right before Darber had removed his bandages. He’d asked Darber who the voice belonged to and Darber had said, “Just a nurse.” But Darber had sounded edgy and the voice somehow seemed familiar. Could Kelly have worked with Darber? The eyedrops he used—they were manufactured by one of the companies Doug had worked with. He hadn’t thought much about it at the time. He picked up his cell phone and called the hospital in Charleston.
“Dr. Darber is with a patient,” the receptionist said.
�
�Tell him it’s an emergency. This is Collin Cash, one of his former transplant patients—”
“Just a minute, sir. I’ll page him.”
Soft music piped over the phone and he gritted his teeth, but within seconds, Darber’s smooth Northern voice came on the line. “Darber here. What’s wrong, Mr. Cash? Are you having vision problems? Headaches—”
“No, it’s not my eyes,” Collin said.
Darber sighed into the phone. “Then what’s wrong? My nurse said this was an emergency.”
“It is,” Collin said. “I need to know if a woman named Kelly worked for you as a nurse. I don’t know her last name....”
“Kelly Cook, yes, she was one of my nurses,” Darber said. “But if this isn’t an emergency—”
“It is,” Collin said sternly. “It may be a matter of life and death. You see, Doctor, I found out the name of my donor.”
Darber’s anger radiated in his voice. “I warned you not to do that.”
“I know, but it was important to me.” He explained about Doug’s murder and his trip to Beaufort, giving a brief version of everything that had happened since, including the connection he’d made with the eyedrops. “Did you know Doug Green personally?”
Darber’s breathing sounded labored. “Yes. Two of the companies he worked with supplied me with drugs.”
“So it’s possible Kelly might have met Doug when she was working for you.”
“They knew each other,” Darber concurred. “Although I don’t see where you’re going with this.”
“I’m not sure, either,” Collin said. “It’s just a hunch. But thanks, Doc.”
He hung up, the uneasiness he felt growing. Snatching his keys, he headed toward the door. If he was right, Megan was Doug’s child. She would inherit a small fortune if the Norvek deal went through. But Kelly was Sydney’s friend. He hoped he was wrong.
He broke every speed limit in town as he raced to Sydney’s studio. When he saw the deserted parking space, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel. He should call her at home, warn her to sit tight until they could talk. Then what would he do—tell her that her dead husband had yet another lover? And a child? With her best friend, too. Not exactly a way to endear himself to Sydney.
