by Talty, Jen
“That’s different.”
She laughed. “Not really. He might have been nice about it, but he made his point loud and clear.”
“He still stood up with us.”
Blaine was making this too easy for her. She’d be able to make her point and then go pass out. “You had to guilt him into it. He only stood there because he owed you. You two are like brothers. You love him because you don’t know anything else, no matter what. I feel the same way about Rachael. She may have done and said some things because she was hurt, or out of spite, but she was always there for me.”
“That close friend of yours had an affair with your father,” his words were clipped. “Giving her motive.”
Blaine refilled her glass, ignoring his inner conscience. As long as she was a little on the drunk side, she probably wouldn’t run out on him. He also understood her point, but it didn’t help. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Rachael was now a suspect. “I’ll be right back.” Blaine handed her the glass and slipped out into the hallway.
“Who takes pictures like this?” Dave asked, going through the box.
“Emma, would you go sit with Kaylee?” Blaine asked, still not trusting that under the circumstances she wouldn’t try to bolt. Old habits die hard.
“Sure.” Emma squeezed his shoulder and disappeared into the other room.
“These are killing my eyes. I just don’t get it. Does everyone take pictures these days?” Dave dropped the pictures in a bag.
“No, Dad. Only people who want to jerk off…or someone with an agenda,” Toby sat down on the steps and rubbed his scruffy beard. “I bet Rutherford didn’t even know the pictures existed until she showed them to him.”
“Why would he sleep with her? Hell, she’s a child.” Dave shook his head.
“Am I a child?” Toby asked with a lifted brow.
“You know what I mean. It would be like me going after Emma or Kaylee.”
“Not even close, Dad.”
“I beg to differ.” Dave sat down on the step next to his son. “Rachael had been his daughter’s best friend. He’s known her since she was in diapers. That’s gross.”
“But she is--and was--a grown woman in these pictures, and age doesn’t necessarily matter in affairs of the heart,” Toby said.
Blaine let out a dry chuckle. “You an expert on this subject?” He knew Toby had fallen hard. The question was, did Toby know it yet?
“No.” Toby shot Blaine one nasty look.
“How long have you and Emma been seeing each other?” Dave asked.
“About six months.”
Blaine watched shock register on Dave’s face. Dave had never thought his son would change his wild ways. Hell, neither did Blaine, but sometimes the right woman changed them for you.
“Boy, that’s like a relationship,” Blaine teased.
“Shut your trap,” Toby said behind a clenched jaw.
“You have a girlfriend,” Blaine teased.
“I know.” Toby tried to hide his smile, but it didn’t work too well. “I guess it’s time to shock the hell out of both of you.”
“You’ve already shocked the old man. Not sure I could take much more.” Dave patted his chest.
“Better get ready for this one, Dad.”
“Holy shit. You’re not considering— ” Blaine started.
“Shut up,” Toby snapped, turning to face his father. “I’d like her to be the only one. As a matter of fact, I was hoping to give her Mom’s ring.”
Blaine slapped his hands together and laughed out loud. He wasn’t laughing because it was funny, but the look on Dave’s face was classic. “Yo, Dave, you okay?”
“Ring? Diamond?” Dave managed between coughs. “You? Emma? Oh, boy. I’d better sit down.”
“You are sitting down, Dad.” Toby slapped his hand around his father’s shoulder.
“Does Emma know any of this?” Blaine asked.
“No, and you better not ruin it.” Toby glared at Blaine.
“When are you going to pop the question?” Dave asked.
Toby rubbed his scruffy beard and his face turned white. “As soon as I get up the nerve.”
“That could take a while,” Blaine teased. “I could tell her for you.”
“You screw this up for me, I’ll deck you.” Toby stood, eyeing the other room. “You let me handle my love life, okay?” Toby nailed Blaine in the chest with his finger.
“You got it.” Blaine arms flew wide.
Toby cleared his throat just as Emma appeared in the foyer.
“How’s Kaylee?” Dave asked.
“Halfway to drunk, and she’s totally creeped out by Rachael and her father. Not to mention the phone call from her former boss.” Emma slipped under Toby’s arm. “I wouldn’t want to be her right now.”
“Emma, I’d like a word with you about Kaylee’s situation,” Dave said.
“I have to do some research, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about. At least from a legal standpoint. She’ll do the right thing when the time comes.” Emma smiled. “Blaine, you should go back in there. She’s kind of all over the place, and I think she’d rather have you around right now.”
“Thanks.” Blaine took a deep breath and then peered into the family room.
Kaylee sat right where he’d left her. She’d just emptied another glass. Time to get her to bed.
Blaine carried Kaylee up the stairs and tucked her between the sheets in her father’s room. The paleness of her already porcelain skin appeared ghost-like in the dim light. “I’ll have Emma make you some French toast and cocoa.”
“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, snuggling with the pillow. “I hate to cause you such problems.”
“You’re not the problem.” He forced himself to remain standing, when he really wanted to climb between those covers and hold her.
Her eyelids fluttered open. “Do you really think Rachael could’ve had an affair with my father?”
“They did seem to spend a lot of time together,” Blaine said, recalling seeing them at the local diner a few times.
“Not that I don’t think my father was attractive, but why would she be interested in him?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.”
“What about Nino?” She closed her eyes and began to roll away.
“You let me and Emma worry about him.” He took a step away from the bed. Deep down he knew in a day or two he’d be forced to turn her over to someone else, or turn his back on everything he believed in.
“Go to sleep,” he whispered. He turned off the light and headed down to find Dave. It was time to find out what the hell Rachael was up to.
“You ready?” Blaine barked, grabbing his keys from the counter.
“Any idea where she is?” Dave asked.
“Let’s try her house first.”
“I’ll follow you.” Dave opened the door and headed for his pickup.
Once on the road, Blaine radioed the dispatcher to call Rachael. He held the mouthpiece in his hand and pounded it against his thigh while he waited.
“Go ahead, she’s on the line.”
“Ms. Hicks, this is Assistant Police Chief Walker… ”
“Why the formalities?” Rachael asked, nerves etched into her tone. He’d like to believe it was because she had something to hide, but it could just be the radio.
“This is official. I need to speak with you.”
“Oh, my God!” she screeched. “Are my parents okay?”
“They’re fine; just sit tight. I’ll be there in about ten minutes.”
“Okay,” she muttered, and the line went dead.
Thank God. He couldn’t handle talking to her another minute. He’d always tolerated her because of Kaylee, but he didn’t trust her.
A few gray clouds filtered though the dark sky as evening gave way to night. The air was still crisp and cool, but the softness in the wind gave the subtle hint that old man winter was on his last gasp.
The driveway to Rachae
l’s small, quaint home was completely cleared of snow, but mounds of the white stuff lined the drive. Blaine wondered how she afforded this house. She’d bought it at the same time she’d started her new antique business, and after she’d done nothing but hop from decorating job to decorating job not doing much of anything. Blaine wondered who could have been paying her bills when he peeked into her garage to see her shiny convertible and a new Lexus SUV.
Dave knocked on the door, tucking the shoebox under his arm. “Don’t get her all defensive.”
“Yes, boss.”
“I mean it, Blaine.” Dave lifted a brow just as the door rattled.
“Good evening.” Rachael gave them a half smile, opening the door waving them in. “Can I get you something to drink?”
“No thanks, ma’am,” Dave said.
Blaine followed them into the family room, all the while checking out the expensive antique furnishings and paintings. He suspected it had cost a small fortune to decorate this house. “How long have you lived here?”
“I’ve lived in this town my whole life, except for the four years I was at school.”
Blaine wanted to say “no shit,” but instead he said, “I meant in this house.”
“I bought it about two years ago. It’s taken me that long to furnish it.” She smiled proudly, offering them a seat.
“It’s very nice,” Dave said dryly. “I saw a piece like this in Mr. Mead’s house.”
“Ruth…Mr. Mead did purchase a few items from me recently.” Rachael sat down and fiddled with her fingers in her lap.
“Do you have a delivery company?” Blaine asked.
“Many customers pick up their own pieces, but I can deliver. I either do it myself or hire a trucking company. Why do you ask? Do you see something you like? Everything in here is in my shop.”
Blaine wanted to laugh out loud, but chose not to. “Did you deliver Mr. Mead’s pieces?” Rutherford had been notorious for not liking change, which included new cars, new help, and even furniture.
Rachael’s forced smile turned to a frown. “I’d have to look at my records, and those are at the shop.”
“You don’t remember?” Dave asked.
“I wouldn’t want to give you inaccurate information. I do know he purchased more than one piece, and at different times.”
“I would think you would remember delivering something to an old friend’s father or having someone else do it,” Blaine added.
“You know, you could be right.” Her fake smile returned and she tapped her finger on her forehead. “My mother might have helped me with one, but the other pieces were pretty large and wouldn’t have fit in my truck. I’m sure it was delivered, but I’d have to check. May I ask what this is all about?”
“What kind of relationship did you have with Mr. Mead?” Blaine asked, watching the blood drain from her face.
“He’s one of my father’s best friends.”
“‘Was’ is the operative word, but we want to know about your relationship with him.”
She gasped. “I didn’t have a relationship with Mr. Mead.”
Dave lifted the top of the shoebox and held up a plastic bag. “These pictures indicate otherwise.”
“Oh, my…where did you get those?” Rachael’s soft and helpful demeanor was replaced by a stiff and cold exterior. “Those are personal and none of your business.”
“When a man is murdered, his personal life and those around him become my business,” Dave said, dropping the pictures back in the box. “We found a note indicating that you might use these pictures against him.”
“Oh, Christ.” Rachael stood and began to pace. “Those pictures were taken while I was in college and well, the note…let’s just say I was young and stupid.”
“What do you have to hold over his head?” Blaine asked.
“That I was a young, impressionable girl and my father wouldn’t have approved. It would’ve destroyed their friendship.”
Something didn’t fit, so Blaine took the bag and opened it to get a better look at the pictures.
“Hey!” she shouted. “Do you mind?”
Blaine ignored her and put a couple of pictures together. “How long did the affair go on?”
“Not long.”
“From when to when?” Dave asked.
“Started the summer after my freshman year and ended that Christmas.”
“You’re lying.” Blaine showed Dave a couple of pictures.
“How dare you.” She narrowed her eyes. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“We can take you to the station,” Blaine said.
“For what? Sleeping with an older man?”
“For questioning, regarding Rutherford Mead’s death,” Dave added.
“You think I killed Rutherford? Oh, please.”
“Were you having an affair with him when he died?” Blaine asked, holding up what he believed to be a more recent picture.
“No.” She gave him a level stare, then plopped back down in the chair. “I wasn’t lying when I said it was short lived while I was in college, but when he loaned me the money to start my business, well…we kind of started seeing each other again.”
“Do you owe him money now?”
“Not really.” She stared at Blaine. “He loaned me the money without a contract. I’ve been paying him back here and there and with some new furnishings. He was the one holding those pictures over my head.”
“Why?” Blaine held the pictures up. “To keep you or threaten you?”
“Not exactly,” she sighed. “He’d threatened to tell my father when I started wanting more than bed sharing.”
“What did you want?” Dave asked.
“I want a family…he didn’t. I ended the affair, and he’d constantly try to get me to come back by threatening me.”
Blaine rubbed his face. “So you decided to take matters into your own hands?”
“I didn’t kill him,” she snarled. “I told my parents about us and they sort of flipped out on me and then on Rutherford.” Rachael’s eyes darted to the floor.
“You realize you’re not helping your parents much right now.” Dave tucked the pictures back into the box.
“My father couldn’t hurt a fly, and my mother just thinks Rutherford’s a dirty old man.” Rachael ran her hands through her hair.
“Years ago you claimed to know who Kaylee’s biological father was,” Blaine added.
“Could be half the men in this town. If she wasn’t so blonde, it could have been your father.” She looked at Blaine with frigid eyes. “But I had only heard a rumor.”
“And?” Blaine glared at her.
“My mom said Mr. Danks had it bad for Mrs. Mead in high school, and he blamed Rutherford for her illness.”
“What about your father?” Blaine asked.
“Give it up, Blaine. My father would never cheat on his wife, much less turn his back on God like that, especially with a woman as sick as Mrs. Mead.” Rachael looked at the floor.
“Do you plan on leaving town any time soon?” Blaine asked, tired of rumors and speculation. He needed facts, and fast.
“I’m a suspect?”
“Just don’t leave town without checking with us.” Dave added and headed toward the door. “Thanks for your time.”
Blaine followed Dave to his patrol car. “You thinking the same thing I am?”
“That Rachael’s hiding something or protecting someone.” Dave nodded. “Go get some sleep. We’ll pay a visit to the Reverend and Mrs. Hicks tomorrow at church.” Dave disappeared into his truck.
The streets were dark, but the large snow banks glowed in the moonlight. The drive up the gravel road to the Mead house reminded him of the night he’d parked his motorcycle down by the gate and met Kaylee by the bunkhouse near the lake.
She’d sneak out in her white nightie and glide like a fallen angel just to be with him. He parked his patrol car and looked around half expecting to see her, but saw Toby instead. “Hey, man,” he said and
made his way up onto the porch.
“How’s the neighborhood witch?” Toby offered him a beer.
“You slept with her, not me.”
“Trust me, you didn’t miss much. Hell, I honestly don’t remember it.” Toby took a slow sip of his beer.
“Any movement around here?”
“Haven’t seen anything out of the ordinary.”
“Where are the girls?” Blaine asked.
“They both mentioned something about washing their hair. I can only hope they’re in the same bathroom.”
Blaine cocked his brow. “Damn,” he muttered, lifting the beer to his lips. “That paints quite a vivid picture.”
“Don’t it though?”
Blaine looked out over the half-frozen lake with the moon dancing across the broken ice. “Amazing view.”
“How do you feel about being a best man?”
Blaine patted his heart. “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“As a heart attack.”
Blaine glanced at Toby. A slight glimmer flicked in his eyes. “You cryin’, man?”
“Screw you, asshole.”
“You shouldn’t talk to your best man like that.”
“Jerk,” Toby muttered, tossing back his beer.
Blaine couldn’t help himself, he had to laugh. The only emotion Toby had ever shown, other than when his mother had died, was anger. Toby had a short fuse and flew off the handle frequently, but over the last few months Blaine had noticed a big change in his best friend—one for the better. “Emma is a good woman.”
“Stay the hell away from her,” Toby barked.
“Won’t be a problem.” Blaine finished his beer. “I’d better get a few hours sleep. I’ve got to relieve your dad at three.”
“That sucks.”
“Just like the rest of my life.” Blaine stood and looked at his life-long friend. “Don’t say a damn thing. Got it.”
Toby nodded, but didn’t keep his trap shut. “Emma went over those files, and nothing jumped out at her that would put you in trouble, but— ”
“I don’t want to hear this.”
A firm grip on Blaine’s arm stopped him from entering the house. “Kaylee knows more about De Luca’s illegal operations than she’s let you know about.”
Blaine yanked his arm away. “I told you— ”
