Above the Fold

by Rachel Scott McDaniel

  Knock. Knock. Two-second pause. Knock.

  The signal. Let the chaos begin.

  CHAPTER 27

  Pulse pounding in her throat, Elissa huddled in what she could only guess was a waiting room.

  In the adjoining chamber, Sterling cleared his throat. Loudly. “The executor is here and will explain everything.”

  Eyes hardened and serious, Cole disappeared through a smaller door into another room, not the one Sterling occupied. What was going on? Elissa moved to follow, but the door swung open, revealing Cole and …

  “Mr. Shelby,” she whispered, her heart stopping cold.

  Or was it? She squinted at the man who looked identical to the dead inventor but had black hair instead of gray and a bandage on his temple. No, she was definitely gaping at the real Mr. Shelby.

  The supposed dead man tipped his hat to her.

  Cole flashed her a dashing smile, snapping her back into reality, putting her feet into motion. No way was she missing any of this. Cole must’ve read her mind, for he grabbed her hand and tucked it in the crook of his arm, his muscle tight under her fingertips. He inclined his head to her. “Shelby was the intruder at my apartment. Apparently, I had something of his.”

  Before Elissa could respond, Mr. Shelby strode into the large adjoining chamber.

  Mrs. Shelby yelped and then fainted, slumping in her chair. Cole rushed over, catching the woman before she collapsed onto the floor. Jeffrey launched to his feet. The woman Elissa supposed to be Miss Kerns gasped then threw a hand over her mouth. The broad man with the hideous tie—the lawyer, maybe?—blanched whiter than the papers he clutched.

  “Father!” Jeffrey spoke first. “You’re …” A sob ripped free. “Alive.”

  Was the son’s emotional declaration because of joy or guilt?

  “Indeed, he is.” Sterling nodded, eyes pensive and chest expanded. “Which is why you all have been summoned here.”

  Several men in suits brushed past Elissa and invaded the room, the air thinning and hot with emotion. Cole assisted Mrs. Shelby back into her chair. Though her body quaked, and her eyes blinked rapidly, the woman remained seated.

  “Even though Shelby is alive, there is a murderer in this room.” Sterling’s gaze swept the space. “And the only man who can identify the killer is the intended victim.” He set his intense stare on Mr. Shelby. “Now’s your turn to explain.”

  Shelby gave a tight nod and gazed lovingly at his wife—now quietly weeping.

  “It’s okay, Anna.” Shelby gave a tight smile. “I realize my presence here is a shock.”

  “But …” Mrs. Shelby’s quiet protest drew every pair of eyes. “Someone died. There was a body.”

  Sterling stepped forward. “Matthew Young was the unfortunate victim, ma’am. His real name was Marcus Jenkins. Not Shelby’s lab assistant, but a man employed by the United States government.”

  “My project was top secret. I couldn’t tell you, Anna.” Mr. Shelby’s face darkened, sadness creeping into his eyes. “Marcus was helping me determine who was after my propeller plans. The Halloway Building on Garson Street had been the meeting place for the thieves. The day of the explosion, they had intended to sell the last installment. Too bad the plans were falsified.”

  “Wait.” Disbelief still registered on Jeffrey’s features, and he blinked as if trying to make sense of it all. “You made fake plans? Why?”

  “To catch them in the act.” Shelby glowered. “I was to meet Marcus at the Halloway Building that night, but he arrived first to snoop around. He used my walking stick—I’d installed a lock pick on the topper just for that occasion. The killers thought it was me and believed since the propeller drawings were safely in their hands, they would dispose of me with a time bomb. The perfect opportunity to complete their plan.” His stare turned flinty. “But let me clarify, there is not a new will. I was supposed to write one, but I didn’t get the chance. The killer didn’t want me to.”

  “You’re not making sense, Dan.” MacAfferty leaned forward in his chair, his neck mottled red. “One minute you’re talking about secret plans, and now the will?”

  Mr. Shelby glowered. “Let me clarify everything for you, Paul, but somehow I think you know the answers.”

  “What’s that mean?” Mrs. Shelby spoke up.

  “It means, love, that the will was intended to include a new member of our family, who is to arrive in about nine months.” He leveled his gaze at Jeffrey. “I overreacted the last time we talked, son. You came to me in earnest with news about your wife.” He pressed his lips together, flattening his mustache. “Yes, I was angry, but there was no chance of me disinheriting you or your family. Your wife is welcome in my home, and so is your child.”

  Child? Elissa swallowed.

  Mrs. Shelby gaped at her son, eyes wide as Miss Kerns’ had been a few moments ago. “Doris is with child?” She pressed a hand to her cheek. “So that’s what the will was about, Dan? You weren’t cutting Jeffrey and me out?”

  “You?” Mr. Shelby smiled tenderly at his wife. “Anna, you’re my very soul. I could never do such a thing.”

  “But your affair?” Her hopeful expression pierced Elissa’s heart. “The divorce?”

  Mr. Shelby sharpened his stare on Miss Kerns, whose complexion turned scarlet. “There was no affair. Miss Kerns was my secretary, possessing a character by which I’d been deceived.” His cold tone enforced his words. “But she had help, didn’t she, MacAfferty?”

  “What do you mean, Dan?” The lawyer tugged his collar, face pinching. “I told you from the start not to hire her. There were questions concerning her morals.”

  Miss Kerns jerked her head toward the attorney, her finger slicing the air, pointing. “Liar! You’re lying! You got me the job!”

  “Enough!” Sterling bellowed over the clamor, moving behind MacAfferty.

  “Enjoying the show?” Cole sidled beside Elissa. “I should’ve brought my notepad. You wouldn’t happen to have yours, would you?”

  Of course she did. She never went anywhere without it. She offered it to him, but he shook his head. “You do it, Spark.” He whispered in her ear and then kissed it.

  She quickly jotted the information and flipped to a fresh page.

  Cole nudged her shoulder. “Note that Shelby’s real propeller plans were scribed on the back of my science test. Clever, huh?” He winked at her.

  “It was all a deception.” Mr. Shelby spoke above the voices. “MacAfferty invented the idea of the new will involving Miss Kerns. To deflect suspicion. To provide a different explanation for the murder. Worked pretty well until you realized my plans were fake, right, Paul?”

  “You’re mad!” MacAfferty began to rise, but Sterling set a hand on his shoulder, keeping him seated. “There’s no truth to what you’re saying.”

  Sterling raised a palm, gaze sharpening on MacAfferty. “It’s easy to clear up. All I have to do is escort you to Garson Street. There was an eye witness who claimed to see both you”—he slid his stare to Miss Kerns— “and you, near the time of the murder.”

  Elissa breathed out, thankful she’d told Sterling the other day about her visit to Bootlegger Alley and the hobo she’d encountered there.

  “I may have gotten the wrong person at first.” MacAfferty launched to his feet, pulled a pistol from his jacket, and aimed at Shelby. “But I won’t now.”

  The gun fired. Mr. Shelby crumpled to the ground. Screams pierced, and gunpowder hazed the air. Elissa jumped behind the door.

  “Dan!” Mrs. Shelby reached toward her husband, but MacAfferty caught her by the arm, holding the gun to her head.

  “Drop your weapon, MacAfferty!” Sterling aimed his pistol at the lawyer.

  “Let her go!” Mr. Shelby shifted to a kneeling position, the bullet hole in his shirt revealing a tightly woven silk underlay.

  “Japanese body armor vest, Dan?” MacAfferty sneered. “Too bad you didn’t make one for Anna.”

  “I’ll surrender the plans in exchange for
her.” He withdrew the paper and waved it frantically.

  “Too late.” MacAfferty pulled the gun’s hammer back, the click chilling Elissa’s blood. “The foreign power cancelled the purchase.” He snorted, and a bead of sweat dripped from his brow. “Your plans are worthless to me now. Let me leave, and I’ll let her live.”

  “Paul! Please!” Mrs. Shelby’s cry echoed off the walls.

  MacAfferty dragged his captive toward the exit, his back toward Elissa.

  Elissa held her breath, crouching behind the door. Should she run for help? No doubt the brute would notice her then. Her trembling hand slipped inside her bag, sliding out the gun lighter she’d swiped from Mr. Shelby’s office.

  MacAfferty stilled in the doorway, only a couple feet from Elissa. “I’ll set her free as soon as I’m sure of my safe getaway.”

  The cops approached him with their guns pointed.

  “Drop them, or I’ll squeeze the trigger. Who’s to stop me?”

  Elissa shoved the barrel into MacAfferty’s vertebrae. “Me.”

  He cussed and turned his gun on Elissa.

  Cole lunged at him, taking them both to the ground.

  A shot fractured the air.

  Sterling’s men piled onto MacAfferty, and Cole rolled to the side, covered in blood.

  His.

  CHAPTER 28

  Sterling’s men cuffed the writhing lawyer and escorted him out the room, Miss Kerns following with her own set of constraints. Mr. and Mrs. Shelby reunited.

  Elissa fell to her knees beside Cole, his crimson-stained hands clutching his right shoulder, his face twisted in anguish.

  “We need to get you help.” Her tears streamed almost as fast as Cole’s blood gushed. What had she been thinking? Pulling a phony gun on someone with a real one. Cole had recognized her bluff and saved her, the bullet marked for her now lodging in his pain-stricken body. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Seeing you cry … hurts worse.” Cole’s gaze pierced hers, his husky tone strained. “It’s … nothing, Spark.” He sucked in air through his teeth and sat up, the entire area around his shoulder soaked with blood.

  The gruesome flow had to be blocked. She fished her handkerchief from her overcoat pocket and pressed it against the wound.

  Cole winced.

  She whispered another apology, staring at the flimsy piece of cotton—a poor relief against the pulsing surge.

  Sterling crouched beside her. “Let’s take a look.”

  She removed the handkerchief, and Sterling’s thick fingers tore the fabric of Cole’s shirt, exposing the gashed flesh.

  Elissa gasped.

  “It’s deep.” Concern threaded Sterling’s voice. “Gotta get you to Mercy. Can you stand?”

  Cole nodded. Sterling slid a hand under Cole’s good shoulder and helped him to his feet.

  Mercy Hospital stood only a mile away, but how much more blood would Cole lose between here and there?

  “I’m going to pull my squad car ’round front.” Sterling assisted Cole to lean against the wall. “Don’t faint in front of your girl, Parker. I won’t let you live it down.” His words were playful, but seriousness flooded his eyes. He assessed the injury one more time and bolted from the room.

  “Elissa.” Cole’s weak drawl pulled her closer. “I need you to do something.”

  With her left hand steadying his good side, she used her right to push the hair from his forehead, fingers trailing to cup his jaw. “Anything.”

  “Leave.”

  Her hand dropped from his face. “What?”

  “Get to the newsroom.” He mashed his mouth together and swallowed. “Write the scoop.”

  Her gaze snapped to the notepad she’d dropped when the turmoil had started. This would be an exclusive for the Review. A story of this caliber would pull in revenue. Get national attention. A journalist’s dream.

  What if this headline could save the paper from being sold?

  “All set.” Sterling reappeared, rain dotting his suit, umbrella in hand. “It’s a torrent out there.”

  “Here’s your chance, Spark.” Cole winked at her, pain bunching the corners of his eyes. “Show the world what you’ve got.”

  Sterling stepped between them, allowing her no chance to respond to Cole’s words.

  He leaned into his cousin and ambled away. She stood in the doorway, gaze lingering on Cole until he disappeared from the mezzanine. The handkerchief moistened her palm, reddening the cracks of her skin. A couple of weeks ago, Cole had stolen her golden opportunity, and now, in the exact same building, he handed it to her with his gracious blessing.

  A sob rocked through her.

  She nabbed the notepad from the floor and scurried out of the room, praying with all her soul she’d made the right decision.

  “Are you here for my Last Rites prayer?” Cole struggled against the searing fire in his shoulder and forced a smile at the nurse who’d introduced herself as Sister Mary Monaca.

  The nun softly chuckled and shook her head. “The only blessing I’ll be saying is the one over your dinner.”

  His stomach protested. Because of his history of addiction, Cole had declined any use of opium, choosing over-the-counter pain relievers which had done nothing to calm the raging burn. “How long do I have to wear this thing?” The sling not only looked pathetic but didn’t do much good limiting the movement.

  “For a while.” She gently prodded the area around the gauze. “Has the anesthetic worn off?”

  Cole slid his eyes shut against the pain.

  “Guess so. Be careful not to move too much. The concern now is infection. We need to keep the wound clean.” Sister Mary Monaca’s white habit swallowed her frame, leaving only her oval face and plump hands visible. She motioned another nun, holding a tray, into the room. “The doctor said you must eat. Set the food in front of our patient, Sister Ferdinand. If he eats, allow the officer in for questioning.”

  The nun must be referring to Sterling. But what was all that about questioning?

  “That includes your vegetables.” Sister Mary Monaca raised a gray brow at Cole, her chin upturned.

  Cole would laugh if he could be sure his stitches wouldn’t burst. There wasn’t much room in this antiseptic-laden cubicle, but Cole wouldn’t decline a familiar face.

  He shoved a bite of potatoes in his mouth. With a nod, Sister Mary Monaca left, the smaller nun following.

  A rolled newspaper edged the dinner tray. Cole grimaced at the masthead.

  Pittsburgh Post?

  And they expected him to get better? He grunted and, with his good arm, opened the competitor’s evening spread.

  Daniel Shelby Alive, Exposes His Assailants

  Cole gaped at the headline, the potatoes in his stomach hardening to brick. He scanned the article. Pittsburgh Post had gained the exclusive. Where was Elissa? Why hadn’t she—

  “Do you have enough to share?” Sterling removed his hat and entered the room. “Missed lunch in all this excitement.”

  “I can’t believe this. Pittsburgh Post got the story.” He tossed the paper aside, his shoulder throbbing.

  “Careful there. Don’t want to aggravate anything.”

  Cole didn’t understand. Her dream was right there. So close. “She lost the opportunity. Again.”

  His cousin swiped the roll from his plate and shoved it in his mouth, lips smacking as he chewed. “She couldn’t very well be two places at once.”

  Cole’s brow lowered. “What do you mean?”

  Elissa appeared in the doorway, eyes wide and stunning. “I came here instead.” A Mercy Hospital blanket wrapped around her, the bottom of her dress rumpled and discolored. Had she walked from the courthouse in the downpour?

  Their gazes melded, the silence speaking clearer than words. She came to the hospital instead of going to the newsroom. Chose him over her long-cherished dream. His chest swelled with love for her.

  Sterling cleared his throat. “I’m … uh … going to wait outside. Guard the door aga
inst Sister What’s Her Name.” Glancing between them, a twinge of sadness marked his eyes. He focused on his hat in his hands and then strode toward the exit. “Don’t be too long. I convinced the nun I was here for police investigations and needed Miss Tillman to accompany me.”

  Ah. Smart. Otherwise, Elissa wouldn’t have been able to see Cole because she wasn’t family. “Thanks, cousin. I owe you.”

  “You’ve done enough.” His eyes locked on Cole’s like a firm handshake, and then he stepped out.

  “How are you feeling?” Elissa moved farther into the room, a cautiousness marking her steps as if she was unaware of her welcome.

  Cole shifted, straightening against the five pillows Sister Mary Monaca lodged under his back. “Never been better.” He shot her a smile. “Got my consolation prize in a jar and my favorite girl for company.”

  Her nose wrinkled when she caught sight of the bullet on the side table. “They put it in a jar for you?”

  “Much better than tonsils, don’t you agree?”

  She bit her lip, fighting a smile. Another step, but not near enough for him to reach her. Her gaze traveled to his shoulder. The amusement in her eyes disappeared. “I’m sorry, Cole. I was so foolish. You could’ve been …”

  Killed.

  He moved his hand, palm up, beckoning her.

  She glided closer and slipped her fingers in his.

  “When MacAfferty turned his gun on you, in that flickering second, my world died. For me, there is no tomorrow without you in it.”

  She sniffed, eyes glassy.

  “But so you know.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m confiscating that silly gun lighter.”

  “I’ll gladly surrender it.”

  “Just like you surrendered your chance at the golden article? Being placed above the fold?” He raised a brow. “Spark, that was your dream.”

  Her lashes lowered. “Somewhere along the way, my dream and my heart blended.”

  This blasted injury. Crushing her in his arms seemed the only appropriate response. “There’s something I want to tell you. Words you need to hear.” His gaze settled on her, and he stroked her index finger with his thumb. “But I’d rather not be in a hospital gown, smelling like ether, when I say them.”