“What?” Stuart’s voice sounded shocked. Frightened. “Is that true, Emily?”
“Of course it’s true. You can see for yourself.” She motioned wearily toward the broken window and the remains of the fire. The acrid smell of smoke still clung to the air, in spite of Emily’s best efforts. “And then today, when I went over to ask Cora Mae if she might have seen anything last night, someone locked me in her basement after pushing me into a shelf of chemicals. The fumes could have killed me.”
All the color drained from Stuart’s face. He said hoarsely, “My God, Emily. I had no idea things had gone this far.”
Emily folded her arms and glared at him. “Now do you believe me, Stuart? Now do you believe that something sinister is going on in this town? Someone is going to extreme measures to try to get me to drop my investigation into Jenny Wilcox’s murder, which only proves that Matthew and I are on the right track. We’re close to solving the murder.”
Stuart looked downright sick. He dropped down in a chair and said weakly, “Emily, you’ve got to stop this nonsense. You could have been seriously hurt—”
“I could have been killed, Stuart, which is exactly my point. If someone didn’t have something to hide, then he—or she—wouldn’t care how much I investigated the murder. Don’t you see?” she asked, her tone growing a little desperate. “There’s something wrong in this town, Stuart. Very, very wrong. I always thought it was just me, but now I know why I never fit in here. I can’t hide things. I can’t keep all those dirty little secrets like everyone else does. Who were the Avengers, and why will no one in town talk about them, still, to this day? It’s almost as if everyone’s trying to protect them,” she finished in disgust.
“If the townspeople still try to protect the Avengers,” Stuart said, “maybe it’s because the Avengers tried to protect this town.”
Matthew said, “So you admit to knowing about a group of vigilantes operating in Paradise who called themselves the Avengers.”
Stuart, ever the lawyer, responded, “I admit to nothing.”
“But you just said—” Emily began.
Stuart exploded. “Drop it, Emily! For God’s sake, what are you trying to do to me? To this town? Do you hate us all that much?”
Emily gaped at her brother in shock. “This has nothing to do with my feelings for you or for Paradise.”
“Of course it does! That’s why you bought this house in the first place. So you could flaunt it before the whole town. Rub our noses in a past we’d all like to forget. Well, you’ve made your point, Emily. We know you don’t give a damn what the rest of us think. Now it’s time to forget all this nonsense about the murder, before you do something we’ll all live to regret.” Without another word, he got up and stomped out of the room.
Emily didn’t quite know what to say. Or to think. Why was Stuart acting so defensive? She’d never seen her brother so agitated. What in the world was going on in this town? And exactly where did Stuart fit into the picture?
Emily glanced up, only to catch Matthew staring down at her. There was a look in his eyes, a strange little glimmer of something that almost seemed like pity.
MATTHEW STAYED WITH EMILY until Caroline Townsend, who had no doubt been sent by Stuart to try to talk some sense into Emily, arrived, and then Matthew excused himself from the two women and went outside.
He didn’t tell Emily where he was going, but he wanted to have a look around Cora Mae’s basement before the sheriff got there. Avoiding Cora Mae’s front door, Matthew went around back to the basement window and let himself in.
The fresh air from the broken window had diluted the fumes by this time, but the harsh smell still lingered. Using his flashlight to guide him, Matthew located the containers of chemicals Emily had told him about.
The glass jars had been smashed against the concrete, but the cans were still intact. Matthew sifted through the debris, reading the handwritten labels. Toluol, zylene, methylene chloride. What in the world was Cora Mae doing with such strong chemicals? They were hardly typical household products, and any one of them could prove deadly in the wrong hands.
Matthew reached for another container, then froze. The door opened at the top of the stairs. The light came on. Silently he doused his flashlight and turned from the shelves, slipping into the shadows near the stairwell as he listened to the telltale creak of the wood as someone slowly descended the steps.
When the footfalls stilled at the bottom, Matthew stepped out of his hiding place to confront the intruder. Almost too late he saw the gleam of a knife blade arc through the air toward him.
Chapter Eleven
Matthew reacted instinctively. He grabbed her arm and wrenched the knife away. Cora Mae howled in pain.
“You broke my wrist!” she screamed, holding her arm as she backed away from him.
“It’s not broken,” Matthew said, putting the butcher knife on one of the top shelves. Cora Mae would have to stand on something to retrieve it, but Matthew didn’t care. He felt safer with the blade out of the woman’s reach. “You’ve got a little explaining to do, Cora Mae. You tried to kill Emily earlier, and now me. You want to tell me what’s going on, or shall we wait for the sheriff?”
Cora Mae glowered right back at him. “I don’t feel like talking to nobody. I just got back from the post office, and I saw you climbing through my window, busting into my house. I was trying to protect myself. I didn’t try to kill nobody.”
“Then why did you lock Emily in your basement earlier?” He pointed toward the broken jars and metal cans on the floor. “She could have died down here. In case you didn’t know it—but I’m guessing you do—those fumes could have been lethal.”
Cora Mae’s chin shot up. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Are you telling me Emily Townsend was over here, prowling around in my basement? Is she the one who made this mess?” Cora Mae’s eyes narrowed as she glared at Matthew. “What are you two trying to pull here?”
“Nice try,” Matthew said. “But attempted murder is a very serious crime, Cora Mae.”
“Now see here—”
“You see here. I might be willing to buy your story that you thought I was an intruder, and I might be able to persuade Emily to forget what happened earlier…in exchange for a little information.”
Cora Mae wasn’t persuaded. Her black eyes gleamed like marbles in the murky light. “I got no information,” she said. “And I got nothing to hide. You and Emily Townsend trespassed on my property. I could have you both arrested if I wanted to.” She folded her arms over her shriveled bosom and stared at Matthew in triumph. “Go ahead and call the sheriff.”
Matthew had to hand it to her. She was a tough old bird, and he knew when he’d been outmaneuvered.
Sensing her advantage, Cora Mae shook a bony finger at him. “If you ask me, the two of you are just begging for trouble, snooping around people’s private property, asking a bunch of questions that are none of your concern. You best be careful. You could end up like those other two.”
“What other two?”
“Jenny Wilcox, and that Drury fellow. They asked a bunch of questions, too, and look what happened to them.”
“Jenny was murdered,” Matthew said. “But no one knows what happened to Wade. Are you implying that he was murdered, too?”
Cora Mae pressed her thin lips together. She looked as if she’d said a good deal more than she meant to. “I’ve said all I’m going to say. Now you git!”
“NOW, are you sure you’ll be all right?” Caroline asked sweetly as she shot Matthew a cool, appraising glance. She picked up her sweater and purse and made ready to leave.
Emily reclined against the headboard of her bed. She’d changed from the blood-streaked dress to a pair of jeans and a T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan Another Day in Paradise, but Caroline had still insisted that she rest in bed. Emily found it easier not to argue. She waved an impatient hand at her sister-in-law. “I’m fine, Caroline. All this clucking about is making me nervous
. Go on home to the kids.”
Again Caroline threw Matthew, who was standing in the doorway of Emily’s bedroom, a less-than-friendly glance. “Well, all right, if you insist. I do have to make some treats for Charles’s preschool class tomorrow.”
“Go on, then,” Emily said tiredly, relief washing over her as she watched Caroline disappear through the doorway. Matthew stepped aside to let Caroline pass, then folded his arms and leaned against the frame.
He smiled at Emily.
Emily smiled at him.
“Hey,” she said. “Where’d you disappear to?”
“I went over to check out Cora Mae’s basement,” he said. “I wanted to get there before the sheriff did. The old bat actually tried to attack me with a butcher knife.”
Emily stared at him in horror. “Matthew! Are you okay?”
“I’m fine, but you’re lucky you got out of there alive.”
Emily’s hand went to her heart. “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said. “Do you think Cora Mae was behind it?”
Matthew shook his ahead. “Not really. I know all the signs point to her, but unless we have more than one culprit operating here, I don’t see her being able to rig up that boulder to roll down the cliff toward us, no matter how feisty she still is.”
“Then someone else must have followed me over there,” Emily said. “Someone was watching me.” A chill crept down her spine at the thought that someone had deliberately stalked her with the intent to kill.
Matthew straightened and walked into the room. He sat down on the edge of Emily’s bed and took one of her hands in his. “I’m really sorry I wasn’t there, Emily. I feel responsible for this.”
Emily squeezed his hand. “Remember what you told me yesterday? Second-guessing yourself gets you nowhere fast. You’re not responsible for me, Matthew. I’m a grown woman.”
He smiled, his eyes flickering over her in a way that made her heart leap. “Believe me, I’m aware of that. But we are partners, and partners should be able to count on one another. From now on, I think we should stick together. No more going off on our own.”
“That’s fine by me,” Emily said, but she couldn’t help wondering whether what he said meant he intended to curtail his own disappearing acts from now on. She gazed up at him, then glanced quickly away, afraid her heart might be in her eyes.
She took a deep breath and said, “Even if Cora Mae wasn’t the one who locked me in the basement, she still tried to stab you. That’s pretty serious business, Matthew.”
“She claims she thought I was an intruder, that she was only protecting herself.”
“Do you believe her?”
Matthew shrugged. “I don’t know. But she thinks fast on her feet, I’ll give her that.”
Emily sat up in bed suddenly. “Do you remember the warning Miss Rosabel gave me about Cora Mae? She said she wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Cora Mae was the one who killed Jenny, just to drive Miss Rosabel out of business.”
“Right,” Matthew agreed. “I’ve seen Cora Mae’s bitterness, and that almost obsessive competitiveness of hers, firsthand. Just because I think it highly unlikely she’s behind everything that’s happened, doesn’t mean I’m ready to discount her altogether.”
Emily sank back against the pillows. “It’s really scary, you know? To think that someone in this town—maybe someone I’ve known all my life—is capable of murder. In a way, I can almost understand why the townspeople were so willing to believe Wade Drury was guilty. It’s easier to accept that kind of darkness in a perfect stranger than it is in one of your neighbors.” She paused for a moment, her mood pensive. “Matthew, do you suppose there’s a chance that we’re simply on a wild-goose chase with this investigation? What if Wade really did kill Jenny?”
“He didn’t.”
The adamant denial in his voice made Emily glance up. A shiver ran down her spine, raising goose bumps along her arms. “How do you know? How can you be so sure?”
He remained silent for a moment, just sat there staring at her. Then, finally, he said, “Because Jenny was Wade’s wife. He was crazy about her.”
It was Emily’s turn to stare at him. “His wife?”
Matthew got up and paced to the window. He stood gazing out with a brooding frown as Emily watched him from her bed, stunned. “Wade and Jenny were married? How do you know this?”
Matthew said nothing for a moment. Then, slowly, as if feeling his way along, he began to talk. “Wade Drury was my brother, Emily. When he disappeared, I was sixteen years old. I vowed I would someday come here and find out what really happened to him and to Jenny.”
Emily could hardly believe what she was hearing. “That’s why everyone acted so strangely when they first saw you. Miss Rosabel and Nella and the others. They saw Wade when they looked at you.”
Matthew nodded. “I deliberately fed the illusion by coming here on a motorcycle, just like the one Wade rode, and wearing clothes similar to the way I remember he used to dress. I wanted to shake people up. I wanted to look them in the eye and see what they saw when they thought they were looking at Wade.”
“Is your real name Drury?”
“No. My real name is Steele. Drury was my mother’s maiden name. Wade used it a lot when he was working undercover.”
The word sent a shiver up Emily’s spine. “Undercover?”
Matthew turned to face her. His eyes looked grim, and the expression on his face told Emily that in a lot of ways, the fifteen-year-old tragedy was still fresh to him. “Jenny and Wade were both FBI agents.”
“FBI agents?” Emily knew she sounded like a parrot, but she couldn’t help it. Everything Matthew was telling her was such a shock. She drew a long breath and released it. “I can’t believe any of this. FBI agents in Paradise? What were they here for?”
“Jenny’s assignment was to infiltrate the Avengers. According to eyewitness accounts, some of the members of the group were heavily arming themselves with militarytype weaponry, and the FBI is always concerned about any secret organization that appears to be stockpiling weapons, because of the threat it might pose to national security. There were several similar operations all over the country back then, and Jenny’s assignment was coordinated with the others, so that none of the target groups would become prematurely suspicious.”
“This is crazy,” Emily said. “Like something you see on TV. It’s not the sort of thing you associate with your own hometown.”
The silence that fell between them was disturbed only by a car passing on the street. It was still daylight outside, but just barely. The fading light slanted through the window, casting deep shadows on Matthew’s face where he stood staring out. It was hard to tell what he was thinking. What he might be feeling.
After a few seconds, Emily said, “You said coming to Paradise was Jenny’s assignment. Why did Wade come down here?”
Matthew threw her a quick glance and shifted, so that he could lean his shoulder against the window frame. “He was worried about her. He’d had a similar assignment some months before, and he knew how dangerous it could be. Jenny was down here on her own, working without backup. That was the way it had to be. Alone, she had a much better chance of infiltrating the group. She was young, beautiful, and seemingly unattached. As far as the FBI knew, the Avengers were all men. I’m sure you can see the reasoning behind sending Jenny,” he said dryly.
She could also see why Jenny’s husband would have been worried.
“Wade disregarded direct orders from his superior and followed Jenny down here on his own. By the time he hooked up with her, Tony Vincent was already sniffing around and sensed something was going on between Wade and Jenny. Vincent became insanely jealous, and he and Wade eventually came to blows.” Matthew’s eyes were on the falling twilight outside the window.
Emily was mesmerized. “Keep going,” she said. “Tell me everything.” The story itself was fascinating, but now that the initial shock was over, she also had an idea that she might gain som
e valuable insight into the man who was telling the tale. Perhaps more than she bargained for, she thought with a shiver, gazing at his dark countenance. But that was a chance she had to take.
“There’s not a lot more to tell,” Matthew said. “After Jenny’s body was discovered, Wade called home, almost beside himself with grief. He said he’d written down everything and was sending us a letter, detailing all the events that had occurred since he and Jenny arrived in Paradise. If anything happened to him, we were to take that letter to his section chief at the Bureau. He also told Mom that he wasn’t going to leave Paradise until he found out who killed Jenny.” He paused. “We never heard from him again.”
Matthew’s story was so compelling, the images he evoked so vivid, that Wade Drury and Jenny Wilcox were almost living, breathing entities in the room with them. The sensation was so powerful that Emily found herself glancing around, and she wondered if Matthew felt it, too. Wondered if he was remembering, as she was, that Wade and Jenny had last seen each other alive in this very house.
Emily got up from the bed and walked across the room to stand behind Matthew. She put out a tentative hand to touch his arm, needing to connect with him. He didn’t turn to look at her, but his hand closed over hers.
“I’m sorry,” she said gently. “It must have been awful for you.”
“My mother was devastated,” he said simply. “I guess we both were, but kids are resilient. I got over it, but I don’t think she ever did.”
“A mother never gets over the death of a child,” Emily said, thinking of the children she’d once planned to have, and feeling the loss.
“I suppose not,” Matthew said. “My father died when I was nine, and my mother and I had both looked to Wade as the man of the house. He was always there for us. And Jenny…Jenny was an angel. We all adored her. Her death was such a waste.” There was no grief in his voice, no sense of tragedy, but in some strange way, that almost made it seem worse. The casual way he retold the story made Emily wonder how many times he’d gone over it in his head. How many times he’d thought about it over the years.
Amanda Stevens Bestseller Collection: Stranger In Paradise/A Baby's Cry Page 15
