But did he work for the good of the common folks? Did he care about those young boys? The ones being abused? Given what I knew about the man and the railroads and the boys’ school, I had my doubts. I nearly voiced my opinion, but I saw no reason to press the point.
“Tell me more.” I didn’t feel like putting out the effort to have a real back-and-forth conversation. Adrian was more than willing to carry the conversational ball by himself. I followed up by asking, “What did you learn about his personal life?”
"Although Josiah and Jenny Beth were never blessed with children, the Wentworths made it a point to donate their free time to young people. Especially troubled youths. They regularly invited boys to their cabin at Lake Seminole. Josiah loved to take the kids camping and canoeing in Three Rivers State Park. It filled the void left by being childless."
Right. But he didn’t help those poor boys at Dozier.
“Is it a 'tell all' sort of biography?” I wondered. Maybe, just maybe, Adrian was keeping under wraps what he’d learned about the Senator’s less savory side.
Adrian gave me an odd look. "There is nothing unsavory to tell. This is the triumphant story of a man who worked tirelessly to improve the lives of others. A rarity in our political landscape. Josiah Wentworth was a real saint."
I caught myself before I sniffed loudly in disagreement.
“I’m not aware of any important legislation that he sponsored,” I said carefully.
“He preferred to work behind the scenes,” said Adrian.
"Was it hard to interview the Senator? When I saw him last, he was not in a good place mentally. I got the impression that his mind was drifting."
“Actually, that’s only happened recently,” Adrian said. “When I needed help, I turned to Jenny Beth Wentworth. She's kept a detailed diary of their life together. What a helpmate that woman has been! A tireless advocate for the underprivileged. A wise counselor. A fierce protector of her husband’s reputation. When the public reads my book, they'll see her as a Southern Jacqueline Kennedy, with all the class and courage that woman embodied."
I lifted my cup to hide my expression. No way would anyone confuse the two. Especially if they got a chance to see Jenny Beth’s decorating.
It struck me as curious that Adrian called Mrs. Wentworth by her first name.
"It sounds as though you and the Wentworths have become good friends," I said.
"They've been incredibly gracious to me. Inviting me to events on Jupiter Island. Introducing me to all the right people. Of course, it was Jenny Beth who actually approached a New York publisher about the biography. As soon as she got home, she asked me if I was interested in doing the actual heavy lifting. She knew I had a keen interest in local politics. Not surprisingly, I jumped at the chance."
"You must have spent a lot of time with the Wentworths."
"I worked with the Senator no less than three times a week. In the event, Jenny Beth started suggesting that I stay for dinner. She even gave me my own guest room so I could bunk up overnight. That way I could review my notes with her the next day."
Sounded to me like Jenny Beth had done a super job of keeping old Adrian under her thumb. I thought back to Poppy and his complaints about Josiah Wentworth. Honora had also mentioned the negative local sentiment surrounding the late Senator. But Adrian seemed to have glossed over that sticking point.
"Did you talk to a lot of people? To try and round out your portrait?”
"I met all the movers and shakers. I’m walking away with a huge contact list. Big names on both sides of the pond. Jenny Beth did yeoman’s work coming up with the details for me. She called everyone in advance to clear the way.”
I just bet she did. She probably told them exactly what to say!
“The timing for my book launch couldn’t be better. I’ll admit that I was a little worried when Jenny Beth insisted that the book come out this fall. That seemed to be rushing things a bit. But she did the ground work and I did the writing, so all’s well that ends well.”
“When exactly will the book be available?”
“It'll be in the bookstores for the holiday season. I’m sure you’ll want to buy copies for all your friends. They’ll make great prezzies."
I took it that “prezzies” was Brit-speak for presents.
“Jenny Beth will handle the signings and events here domestically. I'm already scheduled to do presentations and book signings all over Europe. Just think! I’ll be an international star. You can say you went on a date with me!"
“Right. Gee, look at the time,” I said, pretending to check my cell phone. “Um, it was great catching up with you.”
“I’ll get this,” he said, tossing a five-dollar bill down on the counter.
That amount would barely cover the tab.
"I'll leave a tip," I said.
I have no use for people who stiff servers. None at all. Adrian might be on his way to becoming an international sensation, but he was still a cheap-o creep-o. Waving down a waitress, I handed over a five-dollar bill and asked for ones and quarters. I put $2.50 next to my cup, and the same amount into my pocket. The quarters clanked against my lucky penny.
"I'll walk you back to the store," he said.
I hesitated because that last cup of coffee had gone right through me. Or maybe it was the stress of dealing with Adrian Green’s massive ego. I excused myself to use the ladies’ room at Pumpernickel’s, but it was occupied. I would have to wait until I was back at the store.
As we crossed the street, I tried to keep the mood light. “You’re going to miss this Florida sunshine!”
“Yes, of course,” said Adrian. "Truth to tell, it’s time for me to move on. I do wish they had caught Kathy’s killer. It feels terribly unsettling to have that crime unsolved."
"Really?" I tried to keep the skepticism out of my voice. I would have never guessed that Kathy's murder had bothered Adrian. The man seemed incapable of thinking of anyone but himself.
"I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he said, as I unlocked my front door. “Whatever happened to that photo? The one Kathy purchased from your shop? She told me all about it, you know."
“Yes, well, there was some sort of a mix-up. The picture was returned to our shop. Kathy wanted her mother to have it, so I gave it to Mrs. Simmons right after the funeral.”
"A mix-up?" He sounded skeptical.
I locked the front door behind us. I urgently needed to visit the restroom, so I walked briskly in that direction and said, "Yes. There was some confusion. Please excuse me."
With that, I slipped inside the john. I took my time in there, flushing the toilet repeatedly. I did not want to prolong this visit. I’d had enough of Adrian Green. Time to say goodbye, farewell, and don’t let the door hit your backside on the way out.
"I think that coffee didn’t sit well," I said, as I stepped out of the bathroom.
He was leaning against one of our file cabinets. His arms were crossed over his chest, and he had a weird look on his face.
Fine. That made two of us in bad moods.
I tried to smile. "I better let you go, because I'm sure you're busy, getting ready to leave and all. I have a bunch of paperwork to do."
Instead of heading for the front door, he turned and pointed at my bulletin board. “That's the picture Kathy bought, isn't it?"
"Yes," I said, but I didn’t tell him it was a photocopy.
"I’ll take it with,” he said, snatching it down.
CHAPTER 90
"Kathy made a big deal over this. She told me that the photo was one-of-a-kind. I didn’t get to see it, but she described it to me," said Adrian, as he held the picture between his fingers. It was punctured where the pushpin had gone through it.
"It was one-of-a-kind," I said.
His voice climbed a notch. "But you just told me that you gave the photo to her mother! Why did you lie? This can’t possibly be a one-off!"
“I’m not sure what a one-off is. However, there was only one original. Skye co
pied it for me in case…in case…” I struggled to come up with a good reason, “I damaged it while carrying it in my purse.”
"So which one is the copy?"
"Obviously, the one I tacked on the bulletin board is a copy. It has holes in it, see? I did that to remind myself to give the original to Mrs. Simmons when I went to the funeral.”
Of course, that was a lie. I’d given the original to Nathan. But Adrian didn’t need to know that.
"You have no idea where this photo came from? Or what it's about?" Adrian kept getting louder and louder. I didn't like the look in his eyes.
“It’s about Senator Wentworth and two boys. Look, you told me he worked with youth. That’s the point, right?” I spread my hands in what I hoped was a placating gesture.
“That other woman—Skye?—where did she put the scan?” Adrian advanced on me, closing the distance between us.
"On my hard drive,” I said. I felt very uncomfortable. This wasn’t like when EveLynn invaded my personal space. This felt threatening.
“We only have one computer,” I said, as I turned and pointed at my office.
Adrian stared at me. His eyes had gone cold. His mouth was narrow and tight. “You’re going to unplug that computer and hand it over to me.”
“I don’t think so,” I said.
“I don’t think so,” he said, mocking me. He shoved his hand into his back pocket and pulled out something thin and black. I thought it was a comb. Then I heard a click and a thin silver blade snapped into place. I'd heard about switchblades but never seen one. They look deadly. The long slender knife sent a chill through me, turning my fingers numb.
"I am not about to let you ruin everything for me.”
"Whoa!" I backed away. I couldn't believe he was pulling a knife on me? What was he? A street thug?
Jack whimpered in his crate. “Hush,” I told my dog, sternly. I didn’t want Jack to get hurt.
“We’re going into your office,” said Adrian. “You’re going to unplug your hard drive and hand it to me.”
"Sure. No problem. Let’s just stay calm," I said. My hands were shaking, so I jammed them deep into my pockets. My fingertips touched the cool metal of the change. I tried to calm myself. To stay focused.
“Get going,” he said with a snarl. He jabbed his knife at me. Instinctively, my hands flew up, and I jumped back.
One of the coins fell out of my pocket and rolled under MJ’s desk.
"Uh, my money," I said, and I sank into a squat to pick it up. It was a reflexive action, and really dumb under the circumstances.
Fortunately for me, Adrian thought it hilarious. "Oh, dear. She's lost her copper penny. Go ahead, you stupid cow. Get down on your hands and knees and search for it."
I knelt down slowly. Jack stared at me with those big brown eyes of his.
I inched my way across my floor boards. I wished I could crawl fast enough to hide somewhere safe!
My backside was up in the air. I guess it made an attractive target. Adrian snickered and gave me a quick kick in the butt. The blow hurt more than it should have—and it sent me sprawling face down. My mouth burned. I touched myself and realized that I’d split my lip when I smacked the floor. Rolling to a kneeling position, I wiped away blood.
That’s when I spotted the lucky penny.
Next to Honora's missing hat pin.
CHAPTER 91
Using my body to shield what I was doing, I reached for the coin and the hatpin. Once I had both in my possession, I slowly pushed myself to my hands and knees. Glancing down, I could see a big smear of blood on my tee shirt. The wet burgundy contrasted starkly with the yellow fabric. Grabbing the side of the refrigerator, I helped myself to my feet. I took my time standing, while sliding the hat pin and the money into my pocket.
"Get a move on," said Adrian. “I’m flying first class to London in a couple of hours. Don’t want to miss my flight.”
I didn’t want to turn my back on him, so I walked backwards to my desk. All the while, I was thinking about my options.
"Sid has a couple of extra wires plugged in," I warned Adrian. "I don’t know what all of them do. It might take a minute to get the hard drive unhooked.”
Adrian smiled but his eyes were cold. “Then you better hurry.”
"So you killed her? You murdered Kathy for that photo?"
"No."
"But you know who did?" That was a rhetorical question.
“Maybe.”
I shivered and bent down, keeping my eyes on him. I pretended to struggle with one of the cords. “Sorry, but I can’t get this. Could you help?”
Adrian cursed and stomped over. While he had his temper tantrum, I slipped my hand into my pocket and fingered the cool shaft of the hat pin. Slowly I rotated the hat pin so that the knob was tucked up against my palm.
“I don’t have time for this nonsense,” he said. His hand with the knife rested against my desktop. With his other hand, he reached down for the hard drive.
I figured that I had one chance. After that, I would lose the advantage of surprise. To pull off an attack would take all my strength. I would have to be swift and focused. It was going to hurt me almost as much as it might hurt Adrian.
I had to do something!
I took a deep breath.
"I can't believe you have this old piece of—" he started to complain again.
I plunged Honora's hat pin into Adrian Green's hand.
CHAPTER 92
The human palm isn’t designed to be used like a hammer, and yet that’s exactly what I did as I slammed the hatpin through Adrian’s hand and into the wood of my desktop.
"Argh!" Adrian screamed. The knife toppled out of his fingers. With a loud thunk, it hit the floor.
My defensive stunt hurt me almost as much as it hurt him. At first, the edges of my vision turned black. I worried that I’d pass out from the pain in my palm. I staggered away from Adrian, but he blocked my exit route. I didn’t want to get caught between him and my desk. Any second, he could wiggle free. I'd bought myself some time, but I wasn’t sure how much.
Adrian tried to move his fingers. They were sprawled against the desktop. A bright red bubble of blood marked where the hatpin had been driven through the flesh. His attempt to get free only produced a howl of pain. I’d done a wizard job of pinning him down. With a gasp, he tried again to yank himself free, but the expression on his face told me he’d only succeeded in causing himself more damage.
"Y-y-you!" he screamed and reached for me.
I jumped backwards, but the bookshelf was behind me.
With his free hand, he reached across his body and slapped me up the side of my face.
The pain felt like a bomb going off in my nervous system. Blood squirted out of my nose. My knees went wobbly. My vision blurred. I tasted copper and thought I might puke. Or pass out. Or both.
Focus! Stay with it or die!
The blow had sent me reeling. I lurched sideways.
It had also jarred Adrian’s hand, causing him a new wave of pain, forcing him to bend over in agony.
Gagging on hot mouthfuls of blood, I tripped over myself. My knees buckled. Gravity was pulling me down—and taking me too close to Adrian. He reached for me, but the move tugged his hand. He whimpered this time, rather than crying out. I dropped to my knees. I wiped tears from my eyes and quickly spotted my escape route. On all fours, I crawled under the desk and scooted out the other side.
As I struggled to my feet, I stepped down on something. It was hard and thin.
Adrian's knife! It was directly to the right of the desk.
I scrambled for it wildly.
Adrian was screaming and calling me all sorts of names. But he still couldn’t free himself from the desk. I grabbed the shining lethal blade. Because I was so intent on getting the weapon, I forgot that the side of my body was exposed. Adrian managed to kick me squarely in the ribs.
The blow knocked the air out of me, but I kept my grasp on the knife. I crumpled and rolled
to one side, gasping helplessly. But I had to keep going. With the back of my hand, I wiped blood from my nose and mouth. I forced myself to climb to my knees again. I thought about Tommy. I wasn’t going to let him down. I had to survive this.
Concentrate, I said to myself. Concentrate or die.
My eyes watered with pain.
Adrian had gone very, very still. He was studying how to pull the pin out of his hand.
Once he freed himself, he'd take his fury out on me. I couldn't risk fighting with him for the blade. With the knife firmly in my grip, I rocked back on my heels in a defensive position.
Focus! Get to your feet! Run for it!
How could I run when I couldn’t even stand up? I was choking on the blood streaming down my face. Adrian gave a grunt of effort, followed by a scream of pain. His hand flew free. He went hurtling backwards from my desk. With a loud crash, he banged into my tall bookshelf. Two volumes toppled to the floor. One clipped his shoulder as it fell.
If I lived through this, I promised to buy more hardback books!
I scrambled to my feet, grabbed the desktop to steady myself, and took one step toward the door.
Adrian stepped out from behind the desk and lunged at me. He snatched the edge of my tee shirt. His face was contorted with pain.
"You little—" He spoke in a husky tone. "I'm going to teach you."
"Nothing," said another voice. It was deep and manly. "You’re going to teach her nothing. Put your hands in the air where I can see them. Move slowly."
I expected to hear Nathan Davidson talking. To my surprise, Jason Robbins stood less than two feet away from me. He looked scary mad.
But he wasn’t carrying a weapon. At least not one that I could see.
Second Chance at Life Page 28
