Hidden in the Wall

by Valerie Hansen

  That wasn’t the way Steff would have broken such startling news but once it was done there was no way to soften the blow. Her mother, Myra, had begun to weep openly and it was all Steff could do to keep from joining her.

  J.T. still had plenty to say. “I’ll believe it when I see it,” he’d shouted. “And until that time, I’ll thank you to leave me and my family alone. We want nothing more to do with you.”

  Remembering that horrible confrontation left Steff’s mouth dry and her stomach upset. She remained parked on the shoulder of the road for a few minutes, unable to continue driving when she was overwrought.

  It was easy to recall her unsuccessful attempts to smooth things over at Adam’s funeral. Penny had acted as if she were alone in her grief and blind to everything around her, including her late husband’s relatives. Steff’s remaining brother, Luke, had gotten drunk the day before and had stayed that way for a week, her mother had been inconsolable, and her father had acted mad at the world, which was a normal state for him.

  All in all, it had been the worst time in Steff’s life. Sitting in that chapel, listening to the preacher droning on and on, she had found it impossible to pray.

  There were no words to describe her sorrow, no coherent thoughts to comfort her. Her dear, understanding, wonderful brother Adam was gone. Forever. It wasn’t Penny or the others on the boat she blamed for his death. It was God.

  And did she still blame Him? she wondered. For the first time in a long, long time, she realized she wasn’t quite sure.

  Glancing in her rearview mirror, she pulled out to reenter the highway. In the distance, parked about a quarter of a mile behind her, she noticed a blue compact car also leaving the edge of the road and merging with the traffic flow.

  Had that car been there all the time she’d been parked? she wondered. Maybe. Maybe not. It didn’t matter. This was a busy thoroughfare. Surely many vehicles stopped for various reasons all day long.

  Still, she kept her eye on the other car as long as she could and was relieved to see it turn off just before she reached the city.

  “I’m getting paranoid, jumping at shadows and seeing bad guys in every situation,” Steff told herself with a self-deprecating chuckle. And little wonder. If nobody was actually out to get her or to scare her witless, she’d certainly been the beneficiary of an awful lot of odd coincidences lately.

  Steff had regained her usual upbeat mood by the time she cruised into central Savannah and passed the elegant bronze statue of the city’s founder, James Oglethorpe. To a person who appreciated preserving antiquity the way she did, the city was a living, breathing museum with the charm of the antebellum South. It had been laid out by Oglethorpe in a grid, most of which remained intact, thanks to local historical preservation groups.

  Near the Savannah riverfront, many of the former cotton warehouses had been converted to restaurants, shops and expensive living quarters, although none equaled the grandeur of the original blocks of mansions left in the old city proper.

  Dee was waiting for her at the parking lot near the City Market, in front of an Italian Restaurant called Rigatoni’s, as promised.

  Steff grabbed her purse and digital camera, then joined her friend and gave her the customary hug of greeting. “I’m so glad you could make it. Is Lauren coming?”

  “No. Sorry. She was tied up with a client. But you get me, so you’re bound to be entertained.”

  That made Steff laugh. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. How’s your job going?”

  “Fine. Wonderful. Amazing.” Dee chuckled as she led the way toward the nearby restaurant. “I’m in PR. What do you expect me to say?”

  “Good point.”

  “So, what’s new with you?”

  Steff shrugged and slowly shook her head. “I hardly know where to start. You won’t believe the crazy stuff that’s been happening to me. I’ll tell you all about it while we eat. I promise.”

  Hanging back, she studied the architecture of the Rigatoni’s building, then took several quick shots with her camera. The place blended perfectly with its historical surroundings, yet she knew it was the new construction of which Trevor was so proud.

  Dee waited for her. “I meant to ask why you wanted to eat here instead of one of the more famous places like Lady and Her Sons or Elizabeth’s on 37th. I’ve never been to this place before, have you?”

  “No,” Steff answered. “I wanted to check it out because Whittaker Construction built it. Trevor told me he was very proud of the workmanship and I can certainly see why. It’s magnificent. Look at the way it fits into the neighborhood. If I didn’t know better I’d think it was as old as the other places.”

  “Ah, Trevor,” Dee said with a knowing grin. “Now I know what you meant by crazy stuff. Tell me more.”

  “All I’m doing is research on builders for the college.” Steff smiled at her companion. “And having lunch with a dear friend.”

  “That’s me,” Dee said gaily. “Come on. Let’s eat early so we can have afternoon tea at the Kehoe House on Columbia Square while you’re here. I love their pastries.”

  “What would your sister say if she knew you were thinking of eating such rich food?”

  “Lauren is welcome to her healthy menus,” Dee answered. “As long as she doesn’t try to stuff me full of veggies all the time, I won’t complain.”

  “Well, far be it from me to insist we not celebrate,” Steff said. “Personally, I’m more than ready for something fattening and decadent.”

  “My kind of woman,” Dee quipped. “Let’s go.”

  As Steff climbed the brick steps leading to the restaurant’s stained-glass entrance doors, she was so engrossed in imagining what a beautiful job Trevor’s company could do on the Kessler Library addition she barely noted the blue compact car pulling slowly into the parking lot.

  “I know Fowler Brothers is adequate for plain construction but they’re not nearly as good at capturing ambience and aesthetics,” she told Dee. “Their buildings are as bland compared to this one as white bread is to one of those French pastries you mentioned.”

  Her friend laughed. “Boy, you do have it bad!”

  If Steff hadn’t wanted to avoid more teasing she might have used her cell phone to call Trevor right then and there. As it was, she could hardly wait to get back to Magnolia Falls to tell him how much she loved his work.

  Just his work, Steff insisted to herself. The man is maddening and hard to understand and so blind he can’t see how accepting I am of everyone, including him, whether they come from a moneyed background like mine or not.

  That was what bothered her the most, she concluded. That, and the fact that she wanted him to like her just as she was, not keep trying to prove she should somehow be different.

  His problem was that he was seeing her in the same light as he viewed her parents. Perhaps he always had. Being born a Kessler was an advantage in many ways, yet it had its drawbacks, too.

  All the denials in the world were not going to be enough to convince Trevor that her heart and mind were open and free from prejudice, she reasoned. The only thing that might make a difference was letting him see continued acts of fairness, including her sincere efforts to get him the library contract.

  But I won’t be doing it for that reason, Steff insisted. I’ll be doing it because he really is the best for our needs.

  Thinking that made her smile widen. There was a degree of humorous irony in the situation, wasn’t there? It was nice to be able to honestly recommend him when that was exactly what she wanted most to do.

  “I hate to tell you this when I know how your daughter feels,” the older man said. “But that Trevor Whittaker isn’t trustworthy.”

  J.T. nodded to his old friend, Nat Fowler. “That’s what I was afraid of. You don’t have to say any more. I’ll see to it you get the contract. We’ve already approved the architectural drawings and I’ve looked over your cost estimates. It’s just a matter of the formal vote and we’ll have a contract ready for
you to sign.”

  “How are the fund-raisers coming along?”

  “Fine. Don’t worry about getting paid. Stephanie assures me we’ll have plenty of money in time to break ground as scheduled. She has a few more events planned but we won’t have to wait that long.”

  “Excellent.” Fowler rose and extended his hand to J.T. “I’ll look forward to hearing from you. How soon do you expect to call for the final vote?”

  “In a week or so. I’d like to see the foundation poured before the semester begins and we’re overrun with new students.”

  “Sounds good to me. What are you going to do if your daughter pitches a fit?”

  J.T. laughed. “The same thing I always do, ignore her. She’ll get over it. She always does.”

  “That girl needs a husband to keep her in line,” the builder said.

  “That’s what Myra and I keep telling her but she’s too stubborn to listen. I’m glad we only had one like her.” He sobered. “Lost the best and brightest.”

  “I know. Adam was special. Well, I’d better be going. Take care and give my regards to your wife.”

  Watching him leave, J.T. leaned back in his leather desk chair and closed his eyes. The finest detectives money could buy had failed to find evidence of foul play surrounding Adam’s drowning, but he knew better. His gut churned. Someone had murdered his eldest son. Whether he was ever able to prove it or not, he knew it as surely as he knew his own name.

  If pure hate could have evened the score and brought Adam’s killer to justice, J.T. would have already had the pleasure of seeing the responsible party die a horrible, painful, lingering death.

  Trevor was at his headquarters, going over invoices, when Steff burst in and startled him. He hadn’t thought she’d ever deign to visit a simple office like his, let alone venture onto the wrong side of the tracks to do it.

  He smiled. “Well, well. Hello, Princess. What brings you to this part of town?”

  “I had to tell you in person,” she said excitedly. “I just got back from Savannah. I love the Rigatoni building! It’s awesome.”

  “Thank you.” He remembered his manners. “Can I get you a cup of coffee or a bottle of water? I’m afraid I don’t have anything fancier.”

  “No, no. I’m not thirsty. I just wanted to see your face when I told you I’m going to recommend you for the library contract.”

  “Do you think your father will listen to you?”

  “He’ll have to. I’ll make him look at the pictures I took today, for starters. Your work is clearly superior to the Fowler Brothers’. I’m no expert and I can see the difference in quality. Dad will have to agree.”

  “I hope you’re right.” He closed the file folder and circled his desk while glancing at his watch. “How about supper? Are you hungry?”

  “Not really. I had an enormous lunch and then Dee insisted we stop for afternoon tea so she could have pastry.” Steff touched her stomach. “I may never eat again.”

  “Oh.” He should have known she’d have an excuse.

  “I might go with you and just have a soda or iced tea,” Steff added.

  “You will? I thought…”

  “I know, I know,” she said, making a face, “you thought I was getting uppity again. When are you going to learn I’m not like that?” She began to grin wider. “Well? Shall we?”

  “Sure.” Trevor escorted her to the door with his hand lightly on her elbow. “We can take my truck if you don’t mind riding in it wearing such a pretty dress. Where would you like to go?”

  When she said, “How about Burt’s Pizza,” she could have knocked him over with a leaf of the wild Kudzu vine that everybody predicted was about to bury the South.

  Steff was feeling so good about herself and everything else she was taken aback when Trevor reached under the seat of his pickup truck and handed her the now infamous piece of wallboard she’d asked for.

  She was so reluctant to touch it again that her hands trembled. “I thought you said it was in a safe place.”

  “It was. I got it out and brought it with me so I could give it to you the way you wanted.”

  “Oh.” Studying the scrap, she balanced it gingerly in both open palms. “Funny. It doesn’t look nearly as menacing as I remembered. I’m not even sure these dots are blood.”

  “Do you still want to keep it?”

  “I guess so. I can always stash it down in the basement with the other old stuff until I decide what to do with it.” She looked at Trevor as he drove. “Did you get that door lock fixed today?”

  “Yes. I gave three keys to Brenda and left one on your desk. You can lock or unlock the dead bolt from the outside with the key. I was able to make the old knobs work but I fixed them so they won’t accidentally lock and trap you again.”

  “That’s a relief. You did leave us a bill, didn’t you?”

  “Not this time. I figured I could afford to do that little job on the house.”

  “Then let me buy your supper tonight,” Steff said, never dreaming he’d take offense.

  “I can afford to eat out, Princess. Tell me, is that why you picked Burt’s? Were you trying to let me off cheap?”

  “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I chose Burt’s because it reminds me of all the good times we used to have when we were younger.”

  Trevor nodded slowly, thoughtfully. “It seems like a hundred years ago sometimes, doesn’t it?”

  “Two hundred, at least.” She sighed quietly, then smiled. “We did have some great times but I wouldn’t want to go back.”

  “Neither would I. I did a few really dumb things in my youth. Things I’m still trying to live down.”

  “You weren’t bad,” Steff told him. “You were just a little wild. I think the funniest instance was when you broke into our dorm in the middle of the night and scared everybody to death. That was the most exciting thing to happen in Sutton Hall all year.”

  “If you and Alicia had answered your phone when I tried to check on you, I wouldn’t have had to see for myself that you were okay.”

  “The phone service was out.”

  “Yes, but I didn’t know that.”

  “True.” Steff reached over and innocently patted the back of his hand as he drove, then quickly withdrew when he turned to stare at her in apparent surprise. Her fingers tingled but that was nothing compared to the shiver that had skittered up her arm and traced her spine when he’d glanced at her.

  Folding her hands demurely in her lap, she said, “Alicia and I did appreciate having a big brother looking after us like that.”

  She paused to see if he was going to respond. Reminding him of their past association had not been accidental. Seeing Trevor as a surrogate family member had been a comfortable, uncomplicated relationship she wished they could recapture. Anything was better than the tension they were experiencing at present.

  Lashes lowered, she surreptitiously studied his profile. The good-looking youth was now a ruggedly handsome, mature man. So far she hadn’t been able to look at him in the same nonchalant manner she once had. Nor could she forget the genuine concern she’d sensed when he’d freed her from the locked basement the first time and she’d run straight into his arms.

  If she closed her eyes she could still relive the moments she’d spent in his solid embrace and see the stunned look on his face when she’d realized her error and had pushed him away.

  To her amazement and chagrin, Steff realized that if she had it all to do over again, she might not step back nearly as abruptly. There were some things that were scary and good at the same time, weren’t there? And being hugged by Trevor Whittaker was definitely one of them.

  As for the truly scary stuff, the kinds of things that gave her nightmares…Without serious thought she glanced in the rearview mirror on her side of the truck and noticed a blue car traveling several lengths behind them.

  “Trevor?” she said, peering at the image. “Do you think that little blue car back there is following us?”

&nb
sp; “What?” He tilted his head to check his mirrors more closely. “Why would you think that?”

  “Because I kept seeing one just like it when I went to Savannah.” She huffed. “I suppose I’m being paranoid.”

  “It’s not being paranoid if you were actually tailed.” His hands tightened on the wheel. “Hang on. I’m going to make a quick turn to see if he follows us.”

  Glad she was wearing a seat belt, Steff grabbed up the scrap of wallboard so it wouldn’t slide onto the floor and braced herself as he gunned the engine and slued around a corner, tires squealing.

  Steff’s eyes were wide, her heart pounding. This kind of ridiculous thing couldn’t be happening. Not to her. She’d always lived a stable, uneventful life. Now, over the course of mere weeks, everything had changed.

  She clutched the supposed clue and tried not to tremble. It was impossible. With everything that had happened lately she was as anxious as if she’d just discovered she’d been wading knee-deep in a Georgia swamp full of hungry alligators. She was sick of feeling so disconcerted, so afraid. What had become of her usual self-assurance and poise? She hadn’t felt in full control since she’d first been locked in that disgusting basement.

  Trevor zigzagged his truck up and down side streets until there was no other traffic evident, especially not any compact blue cars. He slowed to a more normal pace.

  Steff studied the road behind them, then sighed. “Whew! I think we’re in the clear. That was interesting driving, mister.”

  “Anything to keep you safe.” Trevor pulled over so he, too, could scan the neighborhood more closely. “Looks like we lost him. Maybe seeing that car was just a coincidence. There must be hundreds like it in Magnolia Falls.”

  A barely perceptible shiver zinged up her spine and prickled the back of her neck. “I sure hope you’re right,” Steff said. “Because I’m getting awfully tired of jumping at shadows.”