Summer Reads Box Set, Books 4-6

by Freethy, Barbara

  Cole ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Natalie. I don't know anymore. Maybe."

  In a strange way Natalie was glad Cole's parents had come by. She understood him better now. Cole was afraid of getting too much love. And she was afraid she would never get enough. How on earth could they ever be together?

  "I'll take you home," he said. "I need to go to work."

  * * *

  Natalie spent most of the morning cleaning her apartment, catching up on laundry, bills, e-mail, all the while trying to ignore the memories clamoring in her head. She did not want to relive yesterday or last night. She did not want to think about how good it had been with Cole and how much harder it was to be alone again now that she'd spent the night with him. She had only herself to blame. She'd made love to him with her eyes open. She'd chosen not to think about tomorrow—so why was she surprised that tomorrow had come and bitten her on the ass? She'd known the time they had together was only a brief interlude. She just had to accept it and move on. Except she just didn't quite know how to move on.

  There was still the problem of the book, the reporters, the fact that she couldn't go back to work. She felt trapped. And she needed a way out.

  When the phone rang in the late afternoon, she let the answering machine pick up, expecting it to be yet another reporter asking her questions she couldn't answer. She was surprised to hear a familiar voice on the machine, another woman from her past.

  "Natalie, this is Diane Thomas," the woman said. "I don't know if you remember me, but—"

  "Diane," Natalie said, grabbing the phone. "Hi, I just got in and heard your voice on the machine."

  "It took me a few days to track you down," Diane said. "I've been thinking about you ever since that book came out. I wanted to tell you I think it's appalling what's been written about you."

  Natalie was touched by her words. Diane had served as their sorority adviser and pledge confidante, and it was nice to know that she didn't believe the rumors in the book.

  Natalie took a seat on the couch. "Thanks. You don't know how much it means to me to hear you say that."

  "I know how close you were to Emily. This must be very painful for you."

  "It is."

  Diane paused for a moment. "Jessica Holbrook works here in my office now. She's the new adviser to the Gamma Delts. She has a different opinion than I do. I felt I should warn you, Natalie, that some of the girls think you did have something to do with Emily's fall."

  Natalie sighed. Even though she'd already known that, it was tough to hear again. "I understand, but I'm not guilty."

  "I know that. Emily was such a sweet girl, and you were best friends. I was talking to Connie Richmond yesterday," Diane added, referring to Natalie's sorority housemother, "and she and I would love to help you if we can. Is there anything we can do?"

  "Not at the moment. Unless you know who the author of the book is."

  "What do you mean?"

  "I don't think Garrett Malone is the author's real name. I think he's using a pen name."

  "Really? Why would he do that?"

  "He must be protecting something. I don't know." Natalie started as her doorbell rang. She hoped it wasn't the press. "Can you hold on a minute?" She looked through the peephole and saw Madison. Opening the door, she motioned to the phone and waved her hand to Madison to enter. "Sorry about that. There is one thing I did want to ask you, Diane. Did Emily confide in you about a guy she was seeing? I know she used to hold your opinion in high regard. She always said you gave great advice."

  "I don't know about that, but I tried," Diane said with a laugh. "As for a guy, I don't recall anyone in particular. We talked more about sorority relationships, girlfriends, that sort of thing."

  Which meant they'd probably spoken about her and Cole. "Did she say anything about wishing I wasn't involved with her brother?" Natalie asked.

  There was a slight pause, then Diane said, "She mentioned things weren't going well between the three of you. I'm sure it wasn't as bad as that book made it out to be, was it?"

  "No, of course not."

  "Well, I have to go. Please feel free to call me or Connie if there's anything we can do. Emily's death was a tragic accident, but it was an accident."

  "Yes, it was, and thank you. That's very generous. I appreciate the support." Natalie set down the phone and responded to Madison's raised eyebrow with, "That was Diane Thomas."

  "Really? Another voice from the past."

  "She doesn't believe the book, and she offered to help. She said she and Mrs. Richmond were talking about it the other day, and they both think I'm innocent."

  "Good. I'm surprised Mrs. Richmond's still the housemother. Wasn't she like eighty when we were there?"

  "More like fifty, Madison."

  "She sure looked old."

  "That's because we were young." Natalie perched on the arm of the couch. "What's up with you?"

  "I saw Dylan last night." Madison sat down in a chair and crossed her legs. "He has a shrine to Emily in his apartment, hundreds of photos of her on every available piece of wall space in a locked closet."

  Natalie was shocked. "Really? How do you know that?"

  "I kind of let myself in. It's a long story. The gist of it is that Dylan was madly in love with Emily. He heard you arguing with Emily in her room the night of the party."

  "So he was at the house that night. I thought so."

  "He said he left because he didn't want to get into the middle of what was going on with you and Em. He wishes he'd stayed because if he had..."

  "Emily might still be alive," Natalie finished. "He thinks I did it then, doesn't he?"

  "Yes, mostly. We did discuss another possibility, but I'll get into that in a minute." Madison paused. "I think Dylan might be Malone."

  Natalie nodded. "I'm thinking that, too."

  Madison frowned. "Well, I thought I was going to be delivering a bombshell, but obviously not. Why do you think Dylan is Malone?"

  "Because Cole and I tracked Malone to L.A. and found a disguise in his room—wig, makeup, the whole bit."

  "Dylan was in L.A.," Madison said excitedly. "Josh told me that."

  "And who better to have a disguise than a magician?" Natalie thought for a moment. "You said there was a lot of Emily memorabilia in Dylan's closet? I wonder if he has her journal in there. Cole and I think that a lot of the information from the book may have come from Emily's journal."

  "Damn, I should have thought of that."

  Natalie stood up. "We've got to get over there."

  "I'll drive. What about Cole?"

  She hesitated. "He's at work, and frankly, I don't want to call him right now. We had a bit of a scene this morning." Natalie was sorry she'd volunteered that much information when she saw the inquisitive gleam in Madison's eyes. "Don't ask."

  "Oh, no, you don't get to say that. What happened?"

  Natalie hesitated. Did she really want to confide in Madison? Madison was probably the only person who wouldn't judge her for what she'd done. She took a deep breath and said, "Cole and I slept together last night, and his parents walked in this morning and caught us practically naked."

  "Holy shit!"

  "You can say that again. They were furious and hurt. They said terrible things to Cole and basically told him to choose between me and the family."

  "I hate morning-after conversations with the folks," Madison said lightly.

  Natalie smiled. "This was a doozy."

  "What did Cole say?"

  "He was defending his position and saying we weren't on opposite sides, but he didn't exactly come right out and say he..." She shrugged, unable to finish the sentence much less the thought. "I know it was stupid to make love with him. I don't know what I was thinking. Where Cole is concerned, my brain takes a vacation. Anyway, it's never going to happen again, so that's that."

  Madison laughed. "Nice try, Natalie, but you and I both know that is not going to be that. You and Cole aren't finished yet. You're not eve
n close."

  * * *

  Cole left work just after four o'clock, knowing he'd accomplished absolutely nothing during the day. He hadn't been able to concentrate. His brain kept wandering back to the passionate night with Natalie, followed by the stormy confrontation with his parents. He needed to talk to someone. Josh hadn't answered his phone, so he decided to try Dylan.

  The hostess at Club V said Dylan hadn't yet come in, so Cole went through the side door and up the stairs that led to Dylan's apartment.

  His knock on the door was answered a moment later—by Josh. Josh wore a pair of faded blue jeans and a white T-shirt. He had a beer in his hand and the television remote in the other. "Cole, what are you doing here?"

  "I was going to ask you the same question. Aren't you supposed to be at work?"

  "I'm covering a game tonight, so I was taking a break."

  "Don't you have your own place?"

  "I was out of beer and Dylan has a bigger television."

  Cole nodded, wondering why it felt like a lifetime ago when his needs had been as simple as a cold beer and a big-screen TV.

  "Where's Dylan?"

  "Gone."

  A chill ran through him at the answer. "What do you mean—gone?"

  "He left me a message this morning saying he'll be back in a few days."

  "Where did he go?"

  Josh shrugged. "I didn't ask. He didn't say. You know he never says." His eyes narrowed thoughtfully. "What's the problem? Dylan is always taking off. Why are you so concerned?"

  "It's this damn book. I think Dylan knows something about it."

  "You better come in," Josh said, closing the door behind Cole. "Want a beer?"

  "No, thanks. Do you think there was something going on between Dylan and Emily in Santa Cruz?" Cole couldn't believe he was asking the question, but it had been rambling around in his head for a few days.

  "It's an interesting question," Josh said after a moment. "Madison asked me the same thing the other night. I told her they were like brother and sister. Weren't they?"

  "I thought so." He felt better having his opinion confirmed. Josh was Dylan's twin brother. Wouldn't he have known if there was something going on? "Of course they were just friends," he added. "I'm going crazy trying to figure out who wrote this book. Malone has gone underground. My best investigator is coming up with nothing. It's as if the man dropped off the face of the earth. And now my parents are back and going ballistic."

  "Is there anything I can do?"

  "You can help me find your brother." As Cole finished speaking, a knock came at the door. "I'll get it." To say he was shocked to see Madison and Natalie at the door was an understatement. Apparently, they felt the same way about seeing him.

  "What are you doing here, Cole? I thought you were at work," Natalie said.

  "I wanted to talk to Dylan."

  "So do we," Madison replied, looking around. "Where is he?"

  "He's not here," Cole replied. "And no one knows where he is." He saw the disappointment flash across Natalie's face, but she quickly averted her gaze. How had they gone so fast from intimate back to strangers? He knew the answer to that. His parents had reminded them both that Emily was still between them.

  "That's fine," Madison said decisively. "It might be a good thing that Dylan isn't here. He won't be able to stop us."

  "Stop us from what?" Josh asked curiously.

  "Going through his closet."

  "Now hang on, Madison," Josh said. "I can't let you go through Dylan's closet."

  "Try and stop me." She pointed to a closed door on the far side of the room. "Have you ever been in there?"

  Cole followed her gaze, wondering what she knew that he didn't. It didn't take long to find out.

  "Dylan has set up a shrine to Emily," Madison continued. "I saw it yesterday. We just need the key." She glanced at Josh. "Do you have it?"

  "I might," Josh said slowly. "But I also respect my brother's privacy. Borrowing his television and mooching a beer is one thing; looking through his closets is another."

  "We have to look," Cole said. "Give me the keys."

  Josh hesitated, then walked over to the table and picked up the keys. He tossed them to Cole. "It must be one of those."

  Cole had been in this loft dozens of times and never even noticed the closet. Now it looked somewhat ominous. He had the terrible feeling he didn't want to open the door. But something drove him across the room. After fumbling with each key, he found the right one. It slid in easily. He turned the knob.

  Natalie, Madison, and Josh came up behind him as the door swung open. "There's a light," Madison said, reaching past him to pull a long, dangling chain.

  The light came on, and Cole's jaw dropped as Emily's face stared out at him in a hundred different ways. Photos of her were plastered all over the small room.

  "Shit!" Josh said. "What the hell is this?"

  "A nightmare," Cole murmured, turning away. He thought he was going to be sick.

  Natalie put a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

  "No."

  "Where are you going? We need to look for Emily's journal."

  Cole shook his head. "I can't. I've got to get out of here."

  * * *

  Laura felt self-conscious and nervous as she walked toward Drew's office, located at the far end of a floor filled with cubicles. His secretary, Pamela Fryer, sat at her post outside his door, her gaze focused on the computer, her fingers flying across the keyboard. Like most of the women in the law firm that had been founded by Laura's father, Pamela was young, attractive, and well-dressed. She'd been Drew's secretary for the past six months, and Laura had barely exchanged more than a few words with her. That was about to change.

  "Mrs. McKinney," Pamela said in surprise, as she approached. "Can I help you? Drew's not here."

  "I know that," Laura said, trying to remember the story she'd concocted. After her unsatisfying conversation with Drew the night before, it had become clear to her that if she wanted answers, she'd have to get them herself. If Drew was up to something, he wouldn't leave evidence of it at home. He'd keep it at work, because she never came to work—until today. "Drew accidentally brought my daughter's permission slip to work, and she needs it. He said it's in his desk. It got mixed up in his papers last week. I'm just going to get it."

  "Do you want me to help you look for it?" Pamela asked, as she stood up.

  "No, I can do it."

  "Mr. McKinney really doesn't like anyone to go through his desk," Pamela said hesitantly.

  "Believe me, I know exactly what Mr. McKinney does and doesn't like," Laura replied, deciding it was time to show a little backbone. "I am his wife."

  "Of course you are. I didn't mean..."

  The phone on Pamela's desk rang as if by divine intervention. Laura escaped into Drew's office while Pamela took the call. Knowing she had only a few minutes, she riffled through his desk drawers as quickly as she could. Nothing, nothing, nothing. She took a quick look through the blinds in Drew's office and saw that Pamela was still on the phone. She had a few more minutes, so she turned to his filing cabinets. As she did so, Drew's computer caught her eye. He loved to do everything online.

  Turning on the computer, she tapped her fingers impatiently on the desk as it booted up, keeping one eye on Pamela, the other on the screen. It would be hard to explain why she needed to look at Drew's computer when she'd come for a simple permission slip.

  Finally, it was up. She glanced through his personal document files and her pulse quickened when she saw one labeled Malone. She opened it and skimmed the contents. It was another travel itinerary. Was this a copy of the one she'd found at the house? No, it couldn't be, because it showed travel to New York. Hadn't Drew gone to New York last month? The dates seemed to coincide with her memory. She scrolled down, hoping to find something more, but there was nothing. Closing out that file, she went back to the main document fist. She ran her finger down the list of files. Most of the names meant nothing to he
r. Until she came to SC. Wondering if SC meant Santa Cruz, she opened it. A list of names and phone numbers jumped out at her. She recognized every single one.

  Jessica Holbrook, Emily's big sister.

  Connie Richmond, their sorority housemother.

  Diane Thomas, the pledge adviser.

  The list went on and on with names of girls who had lived in the sorority house at the time of Emily's death. Laura stared at it for several long minutes. Why did Drew have this list? And what had he been researching?

  Did he want to find out who had written the book?

  Or had he used these people to get information to write the book?

  She shook her head, trying to rein in her imagination. Drew was an attorney, not a novelist. He had not written that book. He had no motive—except money. But he made plenty of money at the firm, obviously more than enough to move large amounts in and out of their bank account. Unless that money hadn't come from the firm.

  Laura turned off the computer and stood up as Pamela appeared in the doorway, an inquisitive expression on her face.

  "Did you find what you were looking for?" Pamela asked.

  "I did. Thanks."

  "Laura?"

  She heard his booming voice even before he entered the office. Her father, Thomas Hart, was a big man, six feet three inches tall with a large, square face and an intimidating manner. He'd always scared the hell out of her, and now was no exception. She might be almost thirty years old, married, and the mother of two children, but when it came to her dad she felt like an uncertain little girl. "Hi, Dad," she said, forcing a smile on her face.

  "Pamela said you were here, but she didn't say why."

  So Drew's secretary had already reported her presence to her father? She sent the woman a pointed look, and Pamela backed out of the office with a muttered, "Excuse me."

  "One of Jennifer's permission slips got mixed up in Drew's papers. I came to retrieve it."

  Her father moved into the office, shutting the door behind him. "Is that really why you came?"

  "What else could it be?" she asked nervously.