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Distant Obsession

Page 3

by Gold, Ciara; Davis, Michael


  “Me, too.”

  For working in a library, Beth wasn’t all that sharp, otherwise she’d put the clues together by now. Thank goodness her summation of the murder had come to an end. Lilah could have offered more of an argument, but the attempt was usually wasted on the less informed.

  “You must have hated living in Georgetown. Hey wait, that’s the same place that Senator Randall resided. Dang, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to bring up such a tragic event. Did you ever meet the man?”

  The lie Lilah fabricated in her mind rumbled about like a loose wheel bearing. The black print blurred on the grayish white paper as she focused past her new acquaintance. Perhaps a half-truth would suffice. “A chance encounter left me with the impression of a charismatic leader.”

  “Wow. I’ve never met anyone famous before. Of course, living in the sticks doesn’t lend itself to many opportunities.” She disappeared between the stacks, Huck in hand.

  Miss Brewster poked her head from the office and shushed them for being too loud. “Clients appreciate a quiet atmosphere for reading.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Lilah whispered the affirmative while inwardly rolling her eyes. Only one client utilized library space during the late afternoon, and the old man was so deaf, they could be shouting and the noise wouldn’t hinder his enjoyment of the book, Lolita. The dirty pervert. Thankfully, the clock indicated a few minutes to the end of her shift. Wednesdays were always slow but allowed time to catch up on filing and computer data input.

  She returned the newspaper to the pile on a low table surrounded by three chairs. A few magazines littered the area and gave her a task to complete the remainder of her hours at the Booneville Public Library. Though not the type of work she’d have chosen under normal circumstances, the place offered an isolated environment and a steady income.

  The little hand bounced into place on the battery-operated clock and signaled an end to another boring day. After slipping on a light sweater and stamping her time card, she exited the historic brick building and jogged down the half-story flight of stairs.

  A woosh of cool air caressed her skin; the fall weather a welcome change from an unusually hot summer. Dry leaves danced across the sidewalk. On either side, tall blackgum trees displayed a canapé of crimson that contrasted nicely against a vivid blue sky. Smiling at the natural beauty around her, she walked slowly to the parking lot, in no hurry to rush home to the loneliness of her isolated dwelling by the lake.

  The sudden chaotic melody of a Red Hot Chili Pepper’s song clashed with the gentle chirp of doves. A quick scramble for the i-phone had her digging deep into the bottom of her overfull purse. She pulled the cell out just in time to slide the arrow to the left and answer the call. “Ashley?”

  “Hi Sis.”

  “Where the hell are you?” Juggling purse, phone, and keys, she slipped behind the wheel of her 2009 Jeep.

  “At the airport.”

  “Where?”

  “The Tri Cities Airport in Blountville. Got time to give me a lift to your place or should I take a taxi?”

  Lilah sat back, shocked at hearing her sister’s voice. “Take a taxi. I’ll get supper started, and we can have a long chat. Oh my God, I can’t believe you’re here. Everyone’s been looking for you.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t handle all the hype.” Background noise filtered in, and Ashley’s voice sounded distant as if talking to someone else. “You still there?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. I just had the driver load my things in the trunk of his taxi. Be there soon.”

  “Sounds like a plan. See you in about forty.”

  “And Sis, I missed you.”

  The cell went dead. Lilah stared at the screen for a long time before tossing it into her purse and starting the engine. The twenty-minute trip home gave her a chance to reminisce. It also gave time to worry.

  Ashley had been in hiding, too, since the night of Ben’s murder. The double homicide of an influential senator and his mistress had made national news before turning her life and Ashley’s into circus hell. She pushed back the horrid thoughts, the images of her husband collapsed upon his lover and the blood that covered their marriage bed.

  No, I refuse to go there, not tonight.

  As soon as she parked her Jeep, Lilah rushed into the spacious wooden cabin situated on Lake Watauga and tossed her purse and keys on the table. A quick glance confirmed the tidy appearance of the living area and kitchen. She pulled a package of frozen lasagna from the freezer and popped their main course into the oven. After setting the temperature and time, she hurried to the guest room and put fresh sheets on the queen-sized bed.

  The moment she fluffed the pillows, a knock sounded. Ashley had arrived.

  “I can’t believe you’re actually here.” The bear hug they exchanged couldn’t make up for a year of lost time. “Here, let me help with your bags.”

  Ashley followed her inside and sniffed. “Frozen lasagna. You never were much of a cook.”

  “No and living alone hasn’t helped. Cooking for one isn’t my thing.”

  Ashley cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable with the reference to Lilah’s lack of marital status. Instead, her sister directed the conversation to topics less touchy; until after dinner when they were both curled in front of the fireplace with a glass of sangria.

  “I see you’ve made a lot of changes to the decorative flair of Dad’s old fishing cabin. Definitely an improvement. I never understood why Mom left his old stuff up on the walls after the divorce.”

  “She still loved him to her last breath.”

  “Never thought of it that way. You could be right. Still, all the rods, guns, and stuff were too masculine for my taste.”

  Lilah smirked. “Especially the trophies and mounted stripers. Used to freak me out the way all the eyes stared at me each time I entered the room.”

  Ashley cast a coyish glance above the rim of her glass. “So – how long you plan to shut yourself off from the world?”

  “I’m not shut off. I still paint, and the fresh air is good for the soul.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like the solitude. I couldn’t take being in hiding anymore. You’re my initiation back into the world of the living.” Ashley laughed and hair a shade darker than Lilah’s bobbed about a round face. “Besides, I had a feeling you might need me.”

  Ash was right, but she refused to admit it out loud. “You always did have a six sense about things.” As early as she could remember, her sister had the ability to perceive things not of this world.

  “Mwahahah. And things that go bump in the night.”

  Lilah giggled at her sister’s playful mannerisms then sobered. “I heard from Dad the other day. The media hounds continue to bug him for my whereabouts. They’re hoping for an exclusive. Hard to believe it happened over a year ago.”

  “The public still thinks you’re guilty.”

  “Condemned without a trial. God, Ash, I hate this whole mess.” Both girls fell silent, each lost in their thoughts.

  Ashley lifted her head and tittered. “Do you remember when we were in our late teens and we’d play ‘I spy’?”

  The rejoining laughter came easily. “I do! Dad would get so mad because once we started, we couldn’t quit, and we’d laugh so hard.”

  “One of us would start whenever we were in a crowded situation and list the attributes of a true hunk. The last characteristic named became the one the other of us had to find in a different man.”

  Lilah threw back her head and wiggled her eyebrows. “And sometimes we’d find hotdogs and sometimes filet mignon.”

  “But if one of us happened to find a man in uniform…”

  “The other had to find a way to meet the man, be he hotdog or filet mignon.”

  “We got ourselves into so many pickles back then.”

  “Yes we did,” Lilah wiped tears from her eyes.

  “I spy.”

  “What?” Lilah looked about the room, expecting a man to materializ
e.

  “Well, maybe I should have said, I spied.” Ashley winked. “I saw the most gorgeous, drop dead, GQ-material man at the airport. He had dark, raven hair so thick I just wanted to run my fingers through it. And his eyes – the most striking blue I’ve ever seen on a man. Well built without being overdone. High cheekbones, clean-shaven with a square jaw. But I’m saving the best for last; he wore a uniform.”

  “Military?”

  “Nope. He was our pilot.” She took a sip of the fruity wine. “I’m telling you. That man can fly me anywhere, and land on top to boot.”

  Lilah smiled a dreamy smile, thinking of her latest art subject. “Sounds like you’re already half in love.”

  “Not my type. Nope, this one’s for you.”

  “But you just said…”

  “I know. And he can fly me anywhere for a short time. He’s quite yummy to look at but way too conservative and traditional for my tastes. I need someone more flamboyant, a bit risky. Point is; he’d be perfect for you, just the diversion to take your mind off things.”

  Lilah hopped from the couch and grabbed the poker to stir the dying embers. “I’m not the least inclined to entertain romantic notions at this time.”

  “You can’t hide forever.”

  A glance over her shoulder let her presume Ashley’s thoughts. “Let me guess. You came all this way to talk me into making a joint debut back into society.”

  “Something like that.”

  Lilah dropped the iron poker back into the stand and leveled a heated glare on her sister. “No. I’m quite happy living in solitude.”

  “Lie if you want, but you still have to play the game. For old time’s sake, you need to find a way to meet my pilot.”

  Her mouth gaped at the absurd challenge. That Ashley was dead serious made the request even more ridiculous. A snort was the only answer she planned to give.

  “Okay, fine. I thought maybe I could prod you into moving forward. I’m sorry I offended you.” Ashley uncurled long legs, set her glass on the side table and stood. “Show me your studio. Dad says you’ve been painting again.”

  Lilah welcomed the change of topic and gladly led her sibling into an adjoining room overlooking the lake. The view alone inspired her artistic endeavors and soothed her edgy spirit. High on a hill, the house overlooked a picturesque view of crystal waters surrounded by a variety of fall foliage.

  The studio area provided enough space for three easels and a storage system for large canvases. Each easel sported a painting in progress, all landscapes of the surrounding region.

  Ashley studied the first and smiled. “Wow. You know just how to capture the morning colors and reflections off the water.”

  “They aren’t the thought-provoking pieces I did for New York, but they calm me, and I’ve found a gallery manager who’s excited about selling them. Plus, I’ve been able to move enough at local art and craft shows to turn a profit.”

  Ashley moved to the second piece and stared. Bending, she looked more closely at the sailor posed on a small sailboat. She tapped the dry surface with her manicured nail. “That’s him.”

  Lilah frowned. “Who?”

  “That’s your pilot.”

  Four

  A pair of deep cerulean, blue eyes flashed in her mind. Since running into the man at the bakery, her obsession had taken a different turn, one that forced Lilah to re-examine her situation. Granted, she loved the country home, the secluded haven that provided hours of meditative joy. Yet at the same time, she longed for more from life.

  She’d always pictured herself with a three-car garage, a rose garden, three screaming kids, and a doting husband. What had gone wrong with the American dream?

  Ben. Ben had gone wrong. Oh, not in the beginning of their union. The first few years were idyllic, but politics had slowly corrupted the man’s ideals and jaded his perspective on many subjects, including marriage.

  She stared at Ashley, sure her shocked features must portray a flaky woman. “How can you tell? I don’t paint photo-realistically, more impressionistically so his features could belong to anyone.”

  Ashley’s mouth puckered before she shook her head. “Maybe, but there aren’t too many men with a crescent moon birthmark below his ear, and you’ve captured it exactly.” She pointed at the flaw that kissed his lower jaw then scanned lower to the dragon shaped blemish between his nipples. “Wow, didn’t get to see that one. Sexy.”

  Once Ashley fixated on something, the hardheaded woman rarely veered from her course. Not wishing to argue more, Lilah moved away from the art and motioned her sister to follow. She wasn’t about to let Ashley know she’d already encountered the “pilot.”

  “Time for another glass of Sangria and something more titillating than my lack of love life,” Lilah said.

  “Hmm, what did you have in mind and no, your tactic won’t work. Eventually, I’ll figure a way for you to meet that man you’ve committed to canvas with hours of loving and creative time.” Ashley giggled, skipping in front of Lilah to twirl her body in a dramatic bid for attention.

  Lilah just shook her head, used to her sister’s theatrics. “In the meantime, how’s your love life. Meet anyone new and exciting?”

  “I did share a lovely conversation with a rather nice, but dull man on the flight here. He wasn’t what I’d call hot stuff, but he had the most engaging voice. And – get this, he’s studying to be an actor.” She lifted the canter high, stared at the ruby, translucent liquid, before pouring a full wine glass.

  “A dull actor, eh?” Lilah held out her empty goblet for a generous dose as well. “So, is there more?”

  Ashley shrugged, staring into her drink. “He asked me for a date. No big deal.”

  “You sound like you have reservations.”

  “Maybe. No, it’ll be fine. Hey, it’s a free night out on the town. And I need a bit of courting after being holed up in Caldwell for almost a year.”

  “You didn’t have to hide.”

  “I didn’t?”

  “Why go into seclusion? It’s not like you had anything to do with Ben’s death.”

  “Lilah.” Exasperation tinted her voice. “When those reporters couldn’t find you, they started hounding me. They figured I had all the answers, like why a beautiful woman suddenly kills her politician husband? Was it rage that motivated her? Or greed?”

  “Calm down. You almost sound like you think I did it.”

  Ashley drew her legs to her chest and rested her chin on one knee, the half empty glass dangling from her fingers. “Don’t be silly. I never believed you could be that vindictive, but they sure made a good case. I had to leave before their price got too high and loyalty to my sibling fell by the wayside.”

  “What price?”

  Ash cast a teasing wink. “The amount they were willing to pay me to set up an interview.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No I’m not. Once they hit a hundred grand, I figured it was time to run and hide myself. You know green is my favorite color.”

  “God, I never knew. I’m so sorry.”

  “Not your fault. The damn news hogs don’t have any manners when it comes to sniffing out a story.” She gazed absently at the plush, white carpet. “Have you heard anything more from the investigators?”

  She shook her head. “Nothing. I keep replaying the events over in my mind, but it’s as if there’s a missing piece of puzzle I’m just not seeing.”

  “Don’t you think it’s weird, with all the antiques, your jewelry, his wallet, that nothing was taken?”

  “I’ve been trying to figure it out myself, but haven’t come up with a logical reason.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t valuables, but something else the murderer was looking for.”

  “Like what?”

  “You tell me.”

  Lilah set the empty drink on the side table and leaned forward, hands clasped together as she pondered the notion. Ashley’s hypothesis seemed more than possible. Ben always acted very secretive whenever
she invaded his home office area. “My husband never liked to be disturbed when he was on his computer. If I came in unannounced, he’d scurry to cover the screen, like he was hiding porn or something.”

  “Men can be so crude.”

  “True, but perhaps you’re right. Maybe he did have secrets, the kind folks kill for. With all his connections, it’s quite possible.” She glanced at Ash. “Do you know something I don’t? You act like you want to tell me a secret.”

  She worried her bottom lip. “Remember the woman that was found with Ben?”

  “How could I forget?”

  “Sorry. I know it’s a painful subject, but …” She shifted positions. “I never made the correlation before, because they used only her last name in the newspapers. Well, I talked to a good friend at Para-Sonar, Inc. where I used to work in Olney, Maryland. She told me Jessica, the secretary for Mr. Ackland, president of the company, was the same woman, your husband’s lover.

  “Did you know her?”

  “Not really, just saw her around the building. Point is, once when your husband visited the company, I saw them drinking coffee together in the cafeteria.”

  “Why are you just telling me this now,” Lilah heard the elevation in her pitch and lowered the tone, slightly, “instead of then?”

  “I didn’t want to make a big deal about it. I knew the problems you two were having, and figured – you know.”

  “No, I don’t, Ashley.”

  “Look. I didn’t want to cause more heartache. Besides, the meeting seemed innocent enough at the time. I should have mentioned it, but I didn’t. I’m sorry, Lilah.”

  “How could you know, Ash? I didn’t even imagine…” She could tell by her sister’s expression Ashley detected her self-induced illusions, both then and now. “I suspected, but after his last affair, I’d hoped he’d changed. I wanted to believe he’d changed. I grew suspicious the week before my opening art show and planned to confront him. I even saw a divorce lawyer, but …”

 

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