Above the Fold

by Rachel Scott McDaniel

  Cole set a hand on his shoulder, and the man shirked away. “Sorry, officer. Came to see Sergeant Monroe. He’s my cousin.”

  The man assessed him with a wary eye. “Wait here.” After one more scrutinizing glare, he stalked into the building. Cole should’ve flashed his press badge and derived amusement from watching the officer snarl in disgust. The joys of being a newshound.

  Cole pulled his hat lower against the chill. Nothing like being left out in the cold. If not for the intention of retrieving his motorcycle, he’d be at home inhaling Mom’s chocolate pie. Hopefully, that rusty motorized mechanism still ran. Shelby had said he’d tinkered with it, but Cole had left the thing in sorry shape.

  “Parker.” Sterling’s low voice held an edge sharp enough to slice the icicles overhead. “I told you not to interfere.” He stepped outside, his massive build blocking the door as if Cole would endeavor to sneak past him.

  “I called your captain about an hour ago. He said I was cleared to pick up my bike. It’s in the garage.” He flicked a glance that direction. “I think.” Shelby’s main office was located in the front of the building with the addition of a small workshop in the back. The garage stood off the alley behind the place.

  “Yeah, it’s there.” Sterling’s stern brow relaxed into an almost normal expression.

  “Good.” At least it hadn’t been tossed into the rubbish pile. Maybe he could get it looking decent, make it a project to keep his head clear of nose-crinkling females. “Why are you conducting interviews here instead of across town at your quaint headquarters?”

  “Captain’s orders.” Sterling shrugged. “You know, for a second, I assumed you were going to pester me for information like your old flame tried to earlier.” His mouth twitched to one side, the equivalent of a belly laugh for any other person.

  “Elissa was here?” Of course she had been. That girl would compete against her own grandma if it meant nabbing the coveted editorial real estate.

  “Do you have any other old flames?” The teasing reached his eyes, and he gave Cole an easy shove.

  “You know I don’t. Please tell me you had the decency to invite her inside.” Temps dipped below freezing this afternoon, and Cole’s bones registered every drop in degree.

  “Only because she had to visit the powder room. Other than that, she got no further than you—”

  The door swung open, revealing a petite brunette. Her sad eyes turned to Sterling. “I—I think I’m … is it possible to retrieve my belongings another time, Sergeant?”

  “I can help if your things are too heavy for you, Miss Kerns.” Ah, his cousin had better watch out, his sensitive side was showing.

  She hesitated. After a quick glance toward the door, she shook her head. “Thank you, officer, but I think I should be on my way. I don’t want to interrupt … anything.” After a quick dip of her lashes, she hastened past. This kind of cold wasn’t for women who looked like they would snap in a stiff wind.

  Then it hit him.

  Recognition rolled through Cole, energizing his mental processes like so many times in the past. Dread’s whispers pricked his conscience. He shoved his chilled fingers into his jacket pocket and contemplated his next move.

  “Cole.” Sterling nudged him with his shoulder. “Didn’t you hear me?”

  “Huh?” He blinked. “No, what’d you say?”

  “Nothing of consequence.” He quirked a brow. “I’m more curious what you’re about to say.”

  “I can’t.” No. He’d come to help honor, not dishonor. “I need to go.” He’d return for his bike another time. Propping up his coat collar, he readied for the walk home. “See you later, Sterling.”

  Iron fingers clamped his shoulder. “You’re withholding information, I can see it. Whatever it is you’re hiding better not be glowing on tomorrow’s news.”

  “Trust me. It won’t.” Because he’d never write it. But with this competition, he had to come up with something. He’d have to discover a different angle.

  “Let’s make a truce.” Sterling’s smile duplicated the one when he’d outplayed Cole in marbles when he was eleven, promising a truce after one last game. Cole had lost his best shooter in the match.

  “Your truces never work out for me.”

  Sterling actually laughed, probably remembering the same incident. “No, this one will benefit us both. You tell me what made you cringe a moment ago, and yeah, I saw that. Then I’ll return the favor and answer any questions about the case.”

  “That’s mighty generous, cousin.” But then. “What’s the catch?”

  “All I ask is for you to treat classified information like it is, classified. Meaning don’t print anything without my approval. This little agreement is also an insurance factor for me, knowing you won’t be issuing any more extras behind my back.”

  A risky bargain. He scratched at his chin’s late-day stubble. Was gaining access to the closed vaults of this case worth being restricted on what he could print? The information he’d receive from Sterling would help keep Elissa safe. Her welfare trumped all. “Deal.”

  “Good. Now out with it.”

  “Shelby had a relationship with that woman. What’d you say her name was? Miss Kerns?” Cole pointed to the street where she’d retreated.

  Sterling blew out a breath. “You sure? What makes you certain?”

  “Perfume.”

  “Explain.” Sterling made a circular gesture with his hand.

  “When I spoke to Mr. Shelby the other day, he reached out to shake my hand. His handkerchief spilled onto the ground. It was then it struck me. Perfume.” Perfume he’d only recognized because Elissa wore the same fragrance. “And then that woman walked past, and the same wildflowers hit like a sock to the nose. The same.”

  “I need more evidence. You know how many women in this city wear that identical perfume or a variation of it? And his reeking of her perfume doesn’t mean he’d had a full-blown affair.” Sterling stood silent for a handful of seconds. “But I can’t dismiss it, either. This morning, Miss Kerns was impatient to attain clearance to retrieve her belongings. Arrived seconds before you, but when she saw Mrs. Shelby, she skittered like a scared kitten. You saw how she raced out of here.”

  “Plus, Shelby talked sadly about his marriage in that short conversation. I can’t remember his exact words, but it made an impression on me.” Cole rolled his shoulders twice against the chill. “You know, this entire case seems off.”

  “How so?”

  Cole shook his head. “I can’t pinpoint it. But when I first heard the news about Shelby, something bothered me. I’ll keep thinking on it.” He had to. That silly contest required it. “Question is, what are you going to do?”

  Sterling’s brow lowered as he set a hand on the door handle. “Let’s have us a little chat with Mrs. Shelby.”

  “I thought you were questioning Mrs. Shelby.” Cole stood a healthy distance from the open office door and whispered to his cousin. “Who’s the tall man with the gaudy tie?” Poor guy’s swing necktie, with its bright orange leaves appearing more like flames, begged for someone to throw a bucket of water on it.

  “That’s Mr. MacAfferty. He’s her lawyer.” Sterling nodded toward the gentleman with a beaked nose and shoulders like a linebacker seated next to the prim Mrs. Anna Shelby.

  “I didn’t know she was a suspect.”

  “Everyone’s a suspect.”

  Sterling had a habit of repeating lines from dime novels. As much as Cole could tease him, now wasn’t the time.

  “I think MacAfferty came to show support. He’s a longtime family friend.”

  “Ah.”

  “Let’s see what I can dig up. Remember, you’re a fly on the wall.”

  “Such a way with words, cousin.”

  Sterling walked into the room, his expression shifting from sly smirk to taut and serious. Cole kept to the side of the room like a good little journalist but made sure he selected a spot where he could hear everything without straining. Than
kfully, Mrs. Shelby had only met him once or twice in his youth, so the likelihood of her becoming unhinged at the sight of a newspaperman was slim.

  Cole had always been amazed at the size of Shelby’s office. While most would prefer a closed, private space, Shelby had been the opposite, choosing a large, open area that almost rivaled the newsroom in size.

  He spotted Shelby’s desk and on it, Cole’s science test. Shelby had kept his humble science exam all these years. A stitch of sadness panged his heart. Cole hadn’t even aced the test, yet Shelby had been proud enough to bust a vest button. The man had given Cole a key to come and go, tutored him every day after Cole completed his paper route, and always had a stocked supply of peppermints, Cole’s favorite. Yes, that test would go home with him today along with his bike.

  Sterling pulled a chair across the floor, its legs skidding against the wood. He joined the MacAfferty fellow and Mrs. Shelby at a small table at the far side of the room—the area Shelby would jokingly call his employee lounge because it boasted a small sink and ice box. “I know this is a difficult time for you.” He flipped a notepad open. “But I need you to answer a few questions. Where were you Friday evening?”

  She dabbed her eyes with her handkerchief, then lowered her hand. “Home.” Her voice came out willowy. “I was home all evening.”

  Sterling scribbled on his notepad and then looked up. “Did you have any visitors? Any phone calls? Someone who could vouch for you being where you say you were?”

  Pointy shoulders stiffened. “No. Not a one. The maid was off, and I was all by myself.” She darted a glance to MacAfferty, who nodded with a glum smile.

  Again, Sterling jotted something down. Wonder if he’d let Cole look at his notes? Sterling leaned forward in his chair, elbows leaning in his knees. “Have you met Matthew Young?”

  Cole lowered his brow. Why would he mention Shelby’s lab assistant?

  “No. I mean, I’ve seen him from a distance, but Dan never made a habit of inviting him or any other employee to our house.” The last phrase had an icy spin to it. “What does Mr. Young have to do with anything? We need to find the person who killed Dan.” She bit her bottom lip, eyes filling with fresh tears.

  “No one has seen Mr. Young since yesterday afternoon. He may have skipped town.”

  Cole itched to yank out his pad and scrawl this info down. Shelby’s lab assistant nowhere to be found the day of the murder? He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms.

  Sterling relaxed in his chair. “What about Jeffrey?”

  Mrs. Shelby sucked in a quick breath. “What do you mean?”

  “We haven’t been able to contact your son.” Sterling lowered his pencil, peering at the older woman. “He hasn’t been at his house in Point Breeze. Do you know where he is?”

  She shook her head. “I spoke with him on the phone late last evening. He was having a difficult time. If it hadn’t been for …” Her lips pinched tight.

  “For what?” Sterling prodded.

  “Nothing. It’s nothing. Dan and Jeffrey exchanged a few words that day.”

  “Exchanged? As in, they fought?”

  She gave a small nod. “But they always have. Both had different views on life.”

  Interesting. The lab assistant and Jeffrey were missing. And Jeffrey had a row with his father the day of his death?

  Sterling tapped his pencil against his notepad. “Okay, Mrs. Shelby, let’s discuss the Halloway Building. That place has been vacant for years, and yet your husband went there. Do you know why?”

  She shook her head. “I have no idea.”

  “There was evidence of old stills and other moonshining equipment in there. Was he involved with the production of alcohol in any way?”

  “No.” Her tone was strangely adamant compared to her previously frail responses. “Dan never drank.”

  Sterling gave a tight nod. “This last question is a delicate one.”

  She dipped her chin in compliance.

  “Was Mr. Shelby unfaithful to you?”

  “Of course not!” She raised her hands, thrashing the stale air, her handkerchief waving a blur of white. “How dare you say such a thing?” Her red-rimmed eyes narrowed.

  MacAfferty slid an arm around her but directed his glower at Sterling. “Sergeant, was that necessary? The woman just lost her husband.”

  Sterling didn’t blink. He held the man’s stare and tightened his jaw. “It was. I have to know if he had an affair, namely with Miss Kerns.”

  The handkerchief fell.

  Silence crept over the room like the afternoon’s chill.

  “Remember, Mrs. Shelby.” Sterling was the first to speak. “You may be asked this in court. It’s best you answer honestly now and not perjure yourself later.”

  MacAfferty leapt to his feet. “Listen, I won’t let you intimidate her. Bullying her to confess something that wasn’t—”

  “It’s okay, Paul.” She lightly tugged on his hand, her eyes sad. “We can’t cover this up.”

  MacAfferty blew out a noisy breath Sterling didn’t pay any regard to and sat back down with a growl.

  Cole pushed off the wall, remaining silent but taking in everything. Everything from the way MacAfferty was protective over Mrs. Shelby to the way she darted glances with several blinks at the man as if she were speaking in code. No doubt Sterling observed it.

  Finally, Mrs. Shelby shifted her attention to his cousin. “He was in love with Miss Kerns. They were to be married after the divorce finalized.”

  Cole’s heart smacked into his heels.

  To Sterling’s credit, his demeanor remained calm, almost expressionless. “When did you become aware of all this?”

  “A few months after Miss Kerns was hired, Dan started working longer hours. He’d been withdrawn too. Never mean, but almost as if his thoughts were elsewhere.” She fidgeted with the beading on her sleeve. “He’s never been one to show affection or say ‘I love you,’ but he’d do little things, such as work on crosswords with me while we listened to records. Dan always loved music.”

  Cole felt sorry for her. She probably didn’t know she rambled on, but maybe she needed to release the agony her heart held captive.

  “At first, I only had hints about the infidelity. Like the perfume. He’d come home nearly doused in it. A woman’s fragrance doesn’t get on a man unless she’s been cozying up to him, but he wouldn’t be open with me. Paul confirmed my suspicion.”

  With a heavy nod, the lawyer slunk in his seat.

  Sterling’s brows creased. “Go ahead. Mr. MacAfferty, please relay your part in this.”

  “I’m Dan’s best friend. He’d come to me a couple weeks ago inquiring about divorce settlements, legal proceedings, and everything involved.” MacAfferty gave a somber smile, his stare distant, unfocused. “I asked him point blank what was going on. He confided in me that he was in love with his secretary and wanted to marry her. He asked me to draw up divorce papers.” The man pulled a hand across his face, and Mrs. Shelby drew in a ragged breath. “I was torn. I felt Anna should be told, but not only was I Dan’s best friend, I was also his lawyer, and there are confidentiality laws. But—”

  “It wasn’t your fault for telling me.” Mrs. Shelby brushed a tear from her face and shifted in her chair toward MacAfferty. “I needed to hear what Dan wasn’t man enough to tell me.” Her shuttered breathing made her collar quiver. “Paul advised me not to fight it. That’d I’d get a bigger settlement if I gave him a quick divorce. He was dead before I ever received any papers.”

  Sterling’s gaze toggled between Mrs. Shelby and MacAfferty. “How come Miss Kerns never mentioned any of this when I spoke to her?”

  Mrs. Shelby’s gaze lowered. “I pleaded with her not to tell. She swore to me she’d let his memory be honorable.” Her head snapped up almost wildly. “The woman had the audacity to tell me she loved Dan enough to keep his name from being smeared in the mud.”

  MacAfferty reached over and covered her hand with his.


  “He stabbed me in the back, Paul.” She pulled her hand away and hugged herself, swaying as if the motion comforted her. Though the rage in her eyes revealed it hadn’t. “Thirty-five years of marriage meant nothing.”

  “That will be all for now, Mrs. Shelby.” Sterling’s voice was authoritative yet calm. “If I think of any other questions, I’ll phone you. If that’d be permissible?”

  She gave a gentle nod, slowly rose from her seat, and turned to MacAfferty. The man retrieved her coat from the back of the chair and helped her into it. He held out his arm, but she shook her head. “I need to use the powder room first. I must look horrid.”

  MacAfferty stepped back and allowed her past him. When the door clicked shut, MacAfferty faced Sterling. “Sergeant, I need to say one more thing.”

  Sterling exchanged a look with Cole and then stepped closer to the lawyer. “Go ahead.”

  “Anna never mentioned the will. But I think it may be important.”

  “What about it?” Sterling raised a brow.

  “Dan told Anna the day before his death that he was going to revise it.” MacAfferty sighed.

  “Was he changing the will to allow Miss Kerns a share?”

  The lawyer nodded. “Miss Kerns was to be the sole beneficiary of the entire estate.”

  “What’s strange is, Mr. Shelby told her about changing his will but not about the affair.” Sterling scratched the back of his neck. “I would think the two go hand-in-hand. Wouldn’t the changes to the will prompt Mrs. Shelby to ask questions about an affair?”

  MacAfferty shrugged. “He told her he was revising it but didn’t disclose what the changes were.” He flicked his gaze to the ceiling and huffed. “He wanted me to do all that. Just like in business, I’m the middle man.”

  “What time are you available, counselor? I’d like to see this will.”

  His chin dipped, revealing a thinning hairline. “It’s missing.”

  CHAPTER 12

  Cole knocked on the Tillman front door for the second time that day. He hadn’t a reason other than to see Elissa. The bizarre and disturbing time at Shelby’s workplace had his mind lingering in a state of bewilderment. With no appetite for dinner, he’d spent time in his room praying. As much as that had helped calm his restlessness, Cole couldn’t shake the need to confer his theories with Elissa, to gain her perspective on the situation. She might balk, might cling to her view of him being the competition, but he had to try. Because Elissa could hold her own in investigative journalism like no one else he’d ever known.