Can't Find My Way Home
Page 9
‘Cass, I’m really hungry.’
Cassie sighed. ‘Subtle as you are, I can take a hint.’ She pointed at the refrigerator. ‘Pick out a salad dressing you like. This gourmet meal is just about ready.’
As they sat down to dinner, Cassie said, ‘It sounds like you and Savannah got along.’
‘We did.’ Brynn looked up from the steak she’d almost finished in record time.
‘I’m surprised that Garrett let her go running around town with you. He’s really protective of her.’
‘Oh. Well, I did get a lecture about taking off with her and Henry, her dog. I deserved it, really. I was only thinking about how lonely and upset I was, not the fact that Garrett really didn’t want her to go with me. He didn’t actually say so, but I could tell he didn’t. That was before he told me he didn’t like it. I apologized to him. And I did have a good time with them. Savannah is a sweetheart.’
‘Hmmm. I have an employee, Rhonda Sanford, who went out with Garrett for a few months,’ Cassie said. ‘He hardly ever dates. Then along came Rhonda. She’s really beautiful. I heard they were seeing each other. Occasionally she’d say something about Garrett – how nice he was, what a gentleman, how much fun they had together – that sort of thing. She even hinted that they were getting really serious. Rhonda wasn’t a fan of Savannah, though,’ Cassie went on. ‘She called her “the brat” or “that spoiled, smart-ass kid.” Then, about three months ago, she stopped talking about Garrett, except when Savannah’s great-grandmother died. She went into detail about how she was helping with the funeral service. I attended the service and she literally clung to Garrett’s arm. He looked uncomfortable at first. Savannah was white as a sheet and every time he leaned down to say something to her, Rhonda pulled him closer. He started looking mad. Later, whenever I mentioned him, she’d barely say a word or she’d go silent. I haven’t seen a genuine smile on Rhonda’s face since that funeral.’
‘I met her today,’ Brynn said, and told Cassie about their encounter. ‘Savannah said when Garrett stopped dating Rhonda she started calling him constantly, even in the middle of the night.’
Cassie looked slightly troubled. ‘Rhonda’s attractive, smart and great at her job. She can really work the customers – talk them into buying things they’d never shell out money for without her encouragement. In some ways I admire her. But there’s something about her …’ Cassie frowned, then shrugged. ‘Maybe the things that make her such a good employee don’t make her a good candidate for a friend. Besides, two or three customers have complained to me lately that she was impatient and snappish with them. I’ve noticed a change in her, too. She seems unfocused.’
‘Depression over losing Garrett?’
‘I think so. If she doesn’t straighten up in a week or two, I’ll have to talk to her. If Garrett is the problem, it indicates I’ll have a problem – Rhonda isn’t the type to accept rejection. I also think she’s not the type to take the blame for losing Garrett. She’ll find someone else to blame. Probably Savannah. Or …’ She looked at Brynn. ‘Another woman.’
Brynn’s eyes widened. ‘You can’t mean me?’
‘You’re young, beautiful, successful, a damsel in distress that Garrett’s daughter obviously admires and likes. I’d say you make a formidable competitor.’
‘For Garrett? You must be kidding, Cass. I’m not interested in Garrett Dane.’ Brynn refused to meet Cassie’s gaze as her friend gave her a long, thoughtful look.
‘Let’s just hope Rhonda knows that.’
Just past midnight, Brynn and Cassie sat on the couch together, eating popcorn and watching Nicole Kidman trying to take care of her children in a huge, gloomy house full of ghosts. Although they’d each seen The Others before, they jumped and squealed at the same moments only to immediately burst into laughter.
‘Just like the old days,’ Cassie gasped between giggles. ‘We haven’t grown up.’
‘I’m glad. After all, I specialize in the supernatural.’
They’d talked all evening about anything except Mark’s disappearance, even though Brynn’s head seemed to beat with the question, Mark, where are you? She was on the verge of developing a throbbing headache when the movie ended.
Cassie suddenly let out a huge yawn. ‘Gosh, I’m tired. It’s been a long day.’ She’d been sitting with her legs curled under her and she groaned as she straightened them. ‘I have to go to bed if I’m going to make it to the store at opening time. Do you want to stay up and watch TV?’
‘God, no. I’m about to fall into a stupor.’
Cassie flipped off the television and two lamps before they both headed for the stairs. They were halfway up when Brynn’s cell phone rang. Since coming to Genessa Point, she’d carried the phone with her everywhere. Now she pulled it from the pocket of her robe. ‘Hello?’ Nothing. ‘Hello?’
‘Did you enjoy the movie, Brynn?’
Brynn froze. The caller again used a voice distorter, which made it even more chilling. Cassie had turned, looking at her and mouthing, What?
‘Well?’ the voice asked.
‘Who is this?’
‘Now Brynn, you know I can’t tell you. Besides, you didn’t answer my question. It doesn’t matter, though. You looked like you were having a good time. The Others is a good movie. One of my personal favorites.’
Brynn lost her breath as she clutched the phone in a trembling hand. ‘What do you want?’
‘Not in the mood to chat? Oh, well. There’s a surprise for you on the porch. A gift. Now listen closely. If your brother is still alive and you don’t get the gift now, or you call your friend the sheriff to come to your aid, Mark won’t be alive much longer. Understand?’ Air flooded from Brynn’s lungs and she went mute. ‘Understand?’ the distorted voice demanded.
Brynn managed to inhale. ‘Yes! Don’t do anything to Mark. Oh, please, don’t—’ The connection broke.
Cassie shook her arm hard. ‘Who was it?’
‘I don’t know. There’s something outside on the porch. I have to get it.’
‘What? No! You can’t go outside!’
‘I have to. If I don’t …’
Brynn rushed through the dark living room toward the front door, Cassie running after her. ‘Brynn, no! Do not open that door! Stop!’
But Brynn had already turned the lock and flipped the deadbolt. She flung open the door, pulling free of Cassie’s frantic grasp on her arm, and crossed the porch to an ivory and gold gift bag sitting at the edge of the porch light’s glow. Grabbing the thin handles, she darted back inside, pushing Cassie aside, slamming the door and turning the deadbolt.
‘My God, Brynn, what are you doing?’ Cassie gasped. ‘Someone could have been out there waiting to grab you! Have you lost your mind?’
Brynn grabbed Cassie’s arm and pulled her through the living room to the windowless downstairs bathroom. She shut the door and turned on the light. ‘I don’t want whoever’s outside to see us.’
‘Someone is out there?’ Cassie asked in a strangled tone. ‘I’m calling Garrett!’
‘No! He said no police and he’s watching.’
‘The guy on the phone? You’re sure?’
‘He knew we were watching The Others.’
‘Oh, God,’ Cassie moaned, then looked at the bag. ‘That’s a bag from my store! Ivory … the gold design …’
Brynn peered into the bag carefully, as if she expected to find a poisonous snake. Instead, it held gold tissue paper wrapped around something. She lifted out the mass, judging that it weighed about half a pound. Carefully she removed the paper to see a slim, rectangular mother-of-pearl case. Her stomach clenched as she recognized it.
‘What’s that?’ Cassie asked in a near-whisper.
Brynn couldn’t answer. She pressed a button and the lid snapped up, revealing a mother-of-pearl comb, a gold lipstick container, a tarnished silver nail file and a small nylon mesh-covered compartment filled with musty face powder. On the inside of the lid was a mirror and a narrow gold plat
e with an inscription:
With Love
To My Sweet Marguerite
‘My father gave this to my mother on their fifteenth anniversary. She cherished it,’ Brynn whispered, thunderstruck. Then she looked at a huge-eyed Cassie. ‘It disappeared right after Dad’s death.’
SEVEN
‘It’s my mother’s! It’s been missing since my father died, but last night someone put it on Cassie’s porch, all wrapped up like a birthday present!’
Garrett Dane looked at the woman across from him, her face a mixture of rage and anguish, her voice rising with every word. ‘Brynn, stop shouting,’ he said sternly. ‘You’re so worked up you can’t even give me a coherent account of what happened last night.’
‘I told you—’
‘You were waiting on the steps when I got to headquarters. You followed me into my office, nearly slammed this thing on my desk and started ranting. Now if you want me to take you seriously you’ll sit down, take a few deep breaths and start calmly at the beginning. Otherwise—’
‘You’ll throw me out.’
‘Maybe,’ Garrett answered, his voice steely.
Brynn glared at him for a moment, then sank onto a chair across from his desk. He fixed two cups of coffee. ‘That should be decaf,’ he said, handing one to her. For a few minutes they each sipped coffee and regarded each other warily. Finally, Brynn drew a deep breath and said, ‘All right. Here’s what happened.’
She told him about watching the movie with Cassie, the phone call and running out onto the porch to pick up the package. Garrett stared at her sternly. ‘Why didn’t you call me?’
‘Because the voice said I was being watched. I was afraid to call you. He said if he saw the police coming to the house, Mark might be killed—’
‘And you fell for that.’
Brynn felt as if she’d been slapped. ‘Fell for it?’
‘You thought the kidnapper had Mark with him and if you didn’t dash out onto the porch to pick up this makeup case, he’d slash Mark’s throat.’
Brynn stiffened. ‘I didn’t think Mark was with him. I thought if I called you, though, he’d go back to wherever Mark is and kill him.’
‘And lose his only trump card? If he even has Mark, that is.’
Brynn felt like throwing her coffee in Garrett’s face. She managed to reign in her impulse, though, and say quietly, ‘I was afraid for my brother’s life.’
‘You were stupid, Brynn. Downright stupid.’
She held his steady gaze. ‘Maybe, but I wasn’t going to take any chances. Whoever took Mark is crazy. Who knows what he might do?’
A moment passed before Garrett said, ‘Well, under the circumstances … I mean, Mark is your brother … you were panicked.’ He sighed. ‘Maybe I understand. A little.’
‘Gee, Sheriff, thanks.’
‘Don’t get defensive. It was still a stupid thing to do. You could have gotten yourself killed and you know it.’
A small wave of spirit washed over Bryn. She raised her eyes to meet Garrett’s. ‘OK, I’ve been properly chastised for my stupidity and I’ve taken your judgment to heart. Now can we get back to the subject of the makeup case?’
Garrett’s stare held. Then he looked back at the mother-of-pearl case. ‘You’re certain this was your mother’s?’
‘Absolutely. When I was a kid, I thought it was beautiful. I used to lie on Mom’s and Dad’s bed and look at it. I hoped someday someone would give me something so beautiful. The lipstick is the same shade my mother always wore. So is the powder. Also, you can’t ignore the inscription, To My Sweet Marguerite.’
‘That’s not proof. Someone who saw the original inscription could have duplicated it on a different case.’
Brynn hesitated. ‘Well, I guess so. But where has it been all of these years?’
‘Did your mother know it was missing?’
‘Not until after we moved. When we unpacked and she couldn’t find it, she was in tears. We looked everywhere.’
‘It could have been stolen when people came back to your house after the funeral.’
Brynn went silent for a minute before saying, ‘Don’t you remember that there was no funeral? After the police finally released Dad’s body, Mom had him cremated. That had been his wish anyway, but his mother had always fought the idea. She didn’t after he was killed. She didn’t even come to Genessa Point. His own mother.’ Brynn’s throat tightened. ‘Mom kept his urn until she died. Now I have it in Miami.’ She managed to swallow. ‘Only a few people came to help us pack – Cassie and her family, Sam Fenney, and Dad’s closest friend, Edmund Ellis, made an appearance but didn’t do much. No one else came near us.’
She caught a flash of pity in Garrett’s eyes before he turned away his gaze, quickly picked up his coffee cup and concentrated on taking a sip. Finally he looked at her, the pity gone. ‘You’re sure no one else helped you pack to move away from town?’
‘Pretty sure, but maybe if I think about it, I’ll come up with someone.’ She sighed. ‘What should I do?’
‘Leave the makeup case with me. We’ll get your fingerprints so we can eliminate them when we process it. I’m certain whoever left it wiped it down, but sometimes no matter how thorough someone is they manage to leave a partial in some obscure spot. If we find anything, I’ll let you know. Until then, I want you to forget about this.’
‘Forget about it! How can I?’
‘You have to try, Brynn. Worrying about it isn’t going to help. I know that sounds like useless advice, but I have nothing helpful to tell you at this point, except that I don’t want you to take any more chances like you did last night.’
‘I don’t know what else I could have done.’
Garrett tilted his head, his mouth tightening.
‘All right. I could have stayed inside but even if Mark’s life wasn’t in immediate danger, we wouldn’t have the cosmetic case.’
‘Getting your mother’s case wasn’t as important as protecting your life. Besides …’
‘I know, Garrett.’ Brynn swallowed hard. ‘Mark may already be dead.’
After Brynn left police headquarters, she wandered aimlessly down the street, looking in store windows although she didn’t really see the displays. Her memory of last night blinded her. At the time, she hadn’t given a thought to her own danger when she sped onto the porch and retrieved the bag. Now she had to agree with Garrett – she’d been beyond foolish, especially because she’d put Cassie’s safety in danger, too.
Finally she passed a small cafe called Cloud Nine. For the first time that day, Brynn smiled. Who’d come up with that playful name? It appealed to her, as did the pretty, flower-bedecked terrace, and she took a seat at one of the outside tables shaded from the bright morning sun by a large yellow and lime-green striped umbrella.
A plump young waitress with pink hair pulled into four shining pigtails, incredibly long false eyelashes, brilliant orange metallic-toned lipstick and an irresistible smile welcomed her, presented her with a menu, hurried back inside and returned within two minutes asking, ‘What can I get for you on this beautiful day, Miss Wilder?’
Brynn raised her eyebrows. ‘You know me?’
‘Oh, for sure. Well, I’d know you from the picture on your book covers even if the whole town wasn’t buzzing about you being here. I’m Mindy. Are you back for the festival?’
‘Uh, yes.’
‘Great! Wonderful! I’m a huge fan of yours. Do you think I could have your autograph before you leave today?’
‘Sure, Mindy. I’m always happy to accommodate fans.’
‘Fabulous! I just knew you’d be nice.’ Mindy glanced back at the middle-aged man staring at her through the front window. ‘That’s the manager. I’d better take your order before I get fired.’
The whole town is buzzing about me being here? Brynn thought as she scanned the menu. Judging from the number of people Garrett said had stopped in headquarters, a good number of people in town had been buzzing about Mark’s prese
nce, too. They hadn’t wanted him in Genessa Point. Now everyone seemed to know he was missing and the police were searching for him. A lot of them probably thought he was on the run but Brynn knew better. Someone had hated Mark to the point of kidnapping him. But why? No demands for ransom had come. Why were they holding him? Or were they holding him? Was he actually …
Brynn couldn’t finish the thought. In spite of the warm day, she shivered when she thought about the blood in his car – a car in which he’d gone missing on the day he’d told Cassie he’d found out something about their father’s death. What the hell had he learned?
‘Know what you want, Miss Wilder?’ Mindy prodded gently.
‘I’m afraid my mind was wandering, Mindy.’ Brynn glanced at the menu again. ‘I’ll have this chocolate thing with all the whipped cream and sprinkles.’
‘The Chocolate Dream. My personal favorite.’
‘And a raspberry Napoleon.’ Brynn frowned then grinned. ‘I don’t even want to know how many calories I’ve just ordered!’
Brynn looked around while she waited for her food. People armed with cameras, most accompanied by children, strolled past her, clearly tourists here for the festival and lured out early on this balmy day with its nearly cloudless powder-blue sky and lemon-drop sun. A lot of buildings had been renovated since Brynn had moved away, most of them sporting brick fronts with dusky blue or white shutters and doors, and lots of windows above boxes bursting with vivid petunias and marigolds. The look of Genessa Point had definitely improved, Brynn thought. Her feelings about the town had not.
Mindy hurried back with Brynn’s order. She had just dipped her spoon into the heavily-sprinkled mound of whipped cream topping on her Chocolate Dream when someone said, ‘Why, hello, Brynn.’
She looked up. Her father’s best friend, Edmund Ellis, stood beside her, smiling but also looking slightly awkward. ‘Doctor Ellis,’ Brynn said in a neutral tone.
‘May I sit with you?’
Here stood the man who’d sworn the knife bearing the DNA of three murdered children was her father’s knife and he knew nothing of it being missing for years before Tessa used it to kill Jonah Wilder. Here stood the man who had never visited them after they’d moved to Baltimore, although at first he’d sent Christmas and birthday cards always accompanied by a gift of money – money which Marguerite had promptly returned. Here stood the man who’d called Marguerite only twice during the year preceding her death.