by Talty, Jen
Emma dropped her pen.
“What’s going on?” Kaylee asked. Fear rippled down her spine. Her father had sent her his will five years ago, and she wasn’t in it. If he had changed it since then, her status as possible suspect would probably jump to murderer, even though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Well, she hadn’t killed her father.
“Don’t speak unless I tell you it’s okay.” Emma patted Kaylee’s knee. “And considering Blaine is your ex-husband…well, someone else should be doing the questioning.”
She glanced at the hand on her leg. It surprised her that Emma’s hands were warm.
“Christ.” Blaine stood, sending his chair backward and then slamming into the wall with a bang. “Will all of you just put your ruffled feathers away and let me do my job?” He removed the ponytail holder and raked his hand through his long, dark hair. “For the record, Ms. Peterson, I don’t plan on doing the questioning.”
Kaylee could tell his outburst had more to do with his own personal torture. Over the course of his teenage years, he’d become a master at hiding his physical pain from migraines, but he couldn’t hide it from her. That fact scared her more than knowing she could end up spending the night in jail.
“Just tell me what I want to know,” Blaine snapped.
Hadley set his briefcase down and pulled out some papers. “As of two months ago, Rutherford Mead changed his will, leaving his entire estate to his daughter— lock, stock and barrel.” Hadley glanced around the room.
“That doesn’t mean my client did anything— ”
“No one’s accused her of anything, yet,” Blaine said, rubbing his temple. “She gets it all?”
“He left one special instruction.” Hadley arched his brow. “If Kaylee chooses not to take ownership of the estate, she can’t sell it. Ownership reverts to— ”
“The Church of the Risen Christ,” Kaylee mumbled.
Hadley glanced toward Blaine. “Actually, ownership will go to Blaine Walker.”
“Blaine? Why?” Kaylee asked, looking around the room. Her father had never approved of Blaine or his family. Even though Blaine’s father had been one of the top executives in his money management firm, he didn’t like the man much. Trusted him even less.
“Yeah, why me?” Blaine asked dryly.
“All he told me was that he never wanted Reverend Jack Hicks or his wife to ever set foot in his home again. And he needed to make right a lot of wrongs.”
“That doesn’t make sense. Jack was one of Rutherford’s best friends,” Blaine said.
“Maybe you should be questioning him.” Emma stood. “Do you still need my client?”
“Yes,” Blaine said.
The room fell silent as Blaine paced behind his desk. Hadley just stood there, and the ice princess didn’t melt. Kaylee wanted to scream. Her father was dead and she wasn’t being given the chance to grieve for him.
Kaylee had known from the moment she had decided to come back to Thief Lake she’d have to tell someone her troubles. She just thought that someone would have been her father. Not his attorney, her ex-husband, and her husband’s lover.
“Two months ago, I called my father seeking money and help after recovering from a serious injury.” Kaylee rose, ignoring the stares from the people around the room and went to the window.
“Ms. Mead— ” Emma started, but Kaylee hushed her by putting up a hand. Sitting in jail might actually be safer.
“I was attacked in my apartment about six months ago.” Kaylee’s muscles constricted as if she was being stabbed all over again. Tears formed in her eyes. “During my recovery, I realized I was in deep trouble and asked my father for help. After a few arguments, he agreed, and here I am.”
“What kind of trouble?” Blaine asked.
“Don’t answer that,” Emma said.
“I’ll ask the questions,” Dave said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. “What kind of trouble, Ms. Mead.”
She swallowed and turned from Blaine’s burning eyes. “Mostly financial, and some personal issues with my ex-boss.”
“When did you leave to come here?” Dave continued.
“A little over a week ago.”
“It took you a week to get here from Chicago?“ Blaine had sat back down at his desk. Any sympathy he might have shown her had been replaced with an all-cop attitude.
“I had to stop for back problems, staying here and there.” Not to mention making sure she wasn’t being followed and driving in a few circles. Blaine pursed his lips and then rolled his neck. She could tell he didn’t believe her.
“Do you have receipts? Credit card information about where you stayed during that week?” Dave questioned.
All Kaylee noticed was Blaine’s unwavering dark eyes glaring at her, crippling her emotions.
“I paid for everything with cash.”
A single, dark cloud crossed the sun’s path, dimming the office. She knew deep down this situation was only going to get worse.
“Can you give me names of the towns you stayed in? The hotels?” Dave questioned.
“Can I speak to Blaine alone?” Kaylee turned and looked at him. “Please.”
“Not without your lawyer present, you don’t. Why don’t you talk to me first?” Emma stood, placing a firm hand on Kaylee’s forearm.
“I didn’t kill my father,” Kaylee whispered.
“Her prints match those on the kitchen door, the sink and the table next to the stairs,” Dave said, leaning against the doorjamb. “Her gun didn’t test positive.”
“I’ve never fired it,” Kaylee said.
“Not even when you bought it?” Hadley asked.
“Don’t answer that,” Emma barked.
“She wouldn’t have to; she’s a damn good shot.” Blaine let out a dry chuckle.
Kaylee bit back a smile when she locked gazes with Blaine. When they had started dating, he decided to teach her how to shoot. She pretended to play dumb, and then proceeded to shoot three cans sitting way too close to his Mustang. He hadn’t known her father had taken her duck hunting all the time.
“I need a word with you.” Dave motioned to Blaine.
“Excuse me.” Blaine glided across the office and out into the hallway with Dave.
“Okay, Ms. Mead, start talking.” The ice princess pulled out a legal pad, forcing Kaylee back to reality. “What are you hiding?”
“Nothing.”
“Your father told me you were in trouble,” Hadley added.
“I was in a bad relationship and my job sucked.”
“What was your job?” Emma asked.
“I was an executive secretary in a law firm.”
“Really?” Emma actually cracked a smile. “What kind of law firm?”
“Mostly business stuff.” Kaylee turned and shot her an icy glare.
“In the city?” Emma jotted things down on her legal pad.
“Are you my lawyer or a cop?” Kaylee snapped, annoyed with Emma’s attitude. The woman didn’t have a caring bone in her body.
Emma let out a long breath, closed her hands in her lap, and very slowly tilted her head toward Kaylee.
“Right now, I’m your best freaking friend.” She ran her fingers through her ponytail. “And if you want to keep me that way, you’ll tell me what I want to know.”
“Kaylee, she’s really good,” Hadley said. “I’d trust her if I were you.”
“I’m sure she is, but I don’t like being badgered. My father’s dead--most likely murdered--I’m the cops’ best suspect, and I don’t even know where or how to bury him.” She fought the tears. No way in hell she’d lose it front of Blaine’s girlfriend.
“His wishes are all right here.” Hadley handed her a piece of paper. “He asked you to follow it to a tee.” Hadley gave her a sympathetic smile.
“You sound like he knew he was going to die.” Her heart fluttered while the blood rushed from her face.
“He was always prepared.”
Kaylee got the distinct impression Hadl
ey was hiding something. But who the hell was she to talk? She may not have pulled the trigger, but she’d bet her last dollar she was the reason her father had been murdered. Nino and his goons didn’t fool around.
“I can only help you if you tell me everything.” Emma took her pad and slipped it back in her briefcase, then pulled out a card and handed to Kaylee. “My cell. Call me day or night, but make sure it’s before you talk to Blaine. In the meantime, I want you to map out everything about your life and movements over the last few weeks. You don’t have to give them to me right now, but I want you to do it.” She gave Kaylee a warm smile.
“Why?” Kaylee recoiled at the way Emma could change in a matter of seconds.
“I know there’s something that you don’t want me, or Blaine, to know. Honestly, I don’t give a shit, but if you get arrested, and I have to defend you— ”
“You don’t have to do anything.” Kaylee turned and stared back out the window.
“Well, I’d want to. I highly doubt you killed Rutherford, but I can’t defend you unless I know everything. And I need to know it before Blaine does. Anything you say or do, he can use against you.”
“Basically, I tell you my dirty little secrets and you’ll protect me from the long arm of the law.”
“That’s what I get paid to do.” Emma stuck her hand out.
Kaylee glanced down at the steady hand with the uncontrollable urge to slap it away. Yet, at the same time, she felt a kinship toward this woman, a sense of companionship that infuriated and comforted her.
Grasping Emma’s hand in a firm shake, almost trying to hurt the woman, she said, “Deal.” Kaylee wanted to feel like she’d just sold herself to the devil, but instead she felt relief.
The sharp jab Blaine felt stabbing into his brain had become increasingly unbearable. The medication could only do so much, and he had little time left before he’d be rendered useless. He glanced at his watch on his way out of his office.
“You okay?” Dave asked.
“I will be when this day is over.”
“You can go home when you’re done in there.”
Blaine closed his eyes briefly, catching his breath and gaining focus. “I’ll take you up on that.”
“As long as you let Kaylee drive.” A firm, fatherly hand squeezed his shoulder. “Speaking of her.”
Blaine peeked open his eyes, the bright lights almost blinded him as the bile in his stomach flew up his throat.
“We have unidentified fingerprints on the staircase, the front door, and in the kitchen.”
“I take it they’re all the same print?”
Dave nodded. “None of which match Kaylee. Her gun is clean, but that doesn’t mean anything because Rutherford’s wasn’t. It appears whoever shot him, used his gun.”
“Her whereabouts the week before his death are sketchy, but I still can’t believe she’d kill him, even unintentionally.” Blaine swallowed. “I spoke with the D.A. and he doesn’t think we have enough to arrest her, but he’s pushing me.”
“Until we have a better suspect, I want you to keep a close eye on her. I want her to take a lie detector test, too, but you’ve got to let me or Williams do most of this. You can always be present, but you can’t lead the questions.”
“It just kind of started.”
Dave’s brow shot up. “Don’t let it happen again.”
Blaine nodded. “Did you hear? I’m in the will.”
“Really?”
“If she doesn’t want the house, I get it.”
“Well, that’s bizarre. Then again, Rutherford’s behavior had been pretty off for a while.”
“It seems there was a falling out between him and Jack Hicks.”
“I’d heard that one.” Dave rubbed his jaw. “Does Kaylee have any idea who her biological father is?”
Ignoring the spots dancing about the hallway, Blaine focused on Dave and his words. “Not to my knowledge. There have been so many rumors over the years, most of them suggesting that half this town slept with her mother.”
“I think that’s the half we start with. And Hadley’s sitting in your office.”
“Shit. I thought you said I could go home.”
“Just ask him. I’ll get Kaylee a cup of coffee and see what I can dig up. Did you know Emma’s been hanging out with my son, Toby?”
“I know she’s hired him a few times.” Blaine blinked.
“Toby’s been acting weird lately.”
“He’s been busy.”
“It seems he’s been a homebody, or at least that’s what all the bartenders are telling me.” Dave stared up at the ceiling, obviously thinking about something besides his wayward son.
“What now?”
“It’s about your mother.”
“Oh, no. You’re joking, right? You want to talk to me about my mother and her love life? Now?” It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen the way Dave had been looking at his mother over the last few months. Hell, they were both widowed and about the same age. “You’ve got some balls.”
“I guess this is the wrong time, huh?”
Blaine wanted to shake his head, but it would hurt too much. “You want to take my mother out, ask her; don’t come to me.”
“So, I have your blessing?”
“Christ, get the hell out of my way.” Blaine took careful steps back to the office. His boss had no couth whatsoever, and he didn’t think his mother would even consider it.
“Emma. Dave would like a word with you and Kaylee,” he snapped as he walked into his office.
“Nice to see you, too.” Emma snagged her briefcase, giving him that same cold stare she’d given him the last time they’d crossed paths.
“Kaylee, let’s go,” Emma said.
“Don’t go far.” Blaine kept his gaze on Kaylee.
“She doesn’t talk to you without me,” Emma said. “She doesn’t talk to you period.”
“This has nothing to do with the case,” Blaine said, keeping his gaze locked with Kaylee’s.
“Over her, my ass,” Emma muttered and left. Kaylee followed Emma and Hadley set off for the door.
“I need a word with you, Hadley,” Blaine said, bracing himself against his desk.
“I thought so.” He turned and plopped himself in one of the chairs. “Ask away.”
Blaine took a moment and settled himself in his chair, trying to clear his head, although it felt like a bomb had exploded between his ears. “Did you have an affair with Roberta Mead?” he asked, not going through any of the standard lead-in questions.
“I had a relationship with Roberta Wilson.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“We dated, but then she hooked up with Rutherford.”
Blaine wasn’t completely incapacitated yet. He considered himself a good judge of character, and Hadley Danks was lying. “So, you never slept with her after she married Rutherford?”
Hadley let out a chuckle. “I might be somewhat of a ladies’ man, but I don’t go after ‘taken’ property.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.”
“Look, I know what you’re getting at, so let’s just cut to the chase. I’m not Kaylee’s father.”
“How do you know? They got married because Roberta was pregnant.” Blaine didn’t move a muscle, but Hadley shifted.
“So did Jack and Linda Hicks, but no one ever talks about them, God forbid. If you must know, Roberta didn’t want me, she wanted Rutherford and she made that clear the day she married him.”
“Are you sure you’re not Kaylee’s father?”
“She’d had to have been pregnant for about eleven months for me to be the father,” Hadley said, disgusted.
“Any idea who it could be?” Blaine asked.
“Are you suggesting that whoever killed Rutherford could be Kaylee’s biological father?”
“Not suggesting anything, just trying to investigate a murder.”
“Damn.” Hadley rose and rubbed a hand across his face. “Rutherford nev
er really talked about Kaylee’s paternity. He never wanted anyone to know.”
“Do you know when he found out for sure?”
“When she was about six and got real sick. Something about learning their blood types weren’t compatible and he couldn’t be her father.”
The spots dancing about the room intensified. Blaine took a deep breath and blinked twice. “Can you give me a list of anyone who might have had an affair with Mrs. Mead?”
Hadley nodded. “It’ll be a long list, and please don’t show it to Kaylee. I’m not sure she’d understand why some people would take advantage of a women they knew was mentally incapacitated.” Hadley gathered his things. “Kaylee’s been like a niece to me, and I don’t think she needs that kind of pain in her life right now.”
Blaine pushed his chair back and stood. The room spun when he took a tentative step on his wobbling legs. “She used to worry she’d end up just like her mother.”
“Schizophrenia is hereditary, but from what I’ve read, the loss of a child would’ve been a trigger for Kaylee. She seems fine to me,” Hadley said.
“I’ll be in touch.” Blaine pointed to the door and kept his feet moving toward the bathroom down the hallway. “See you later.” It seemed all the medication ever did was buy him some time.
After locking the bathroom door, he flicked the lights off and let his stomach empty its contents into the toilet. When the heaving stopped, he braced himself against the sink, taking in slow calculated breaths. Cold sweat broke out around his hairline and his body shook. A knock came at the door.
“Blaine? You in there?” Kaylee asked.
“Coming,” he muttered, finding a stick of gum in his pocket. “Grab my keys and meet me at the front door.”
“You sure?” Her voice was soft like an angel’s.
“Just do it, please.” He stiffened his back and rolled his neck. The lights waiting on the other side of the door would hurt, but he’d be home soon enough.
Holding his head high, he managed to make it through the station without too many gawks and stares. Suffering from migraines had always made him feel weak, but he did pride himself that not many people knew he got them. Or how bad they were.
