Rush read between the lines. “You’re saying her account was for her to feel secure?” Why would Marilyn feel that way? Had she been a foster kid? “You want to expound further?”
“No. Because it’s not pertinent to your investigation. That account was kept open for when or if she returned. You’re welcome to the bank records.” Joshua opened a filing cabinet and pulled out a manila folder. “She has four thousand dollars in it. It would appear she had been withdrawing money and storing it up, since you found the cash. I can’t tell you why.” He handed over the information.
“Can’t or won’t?” Rush asked.
“Marilyn had left before. She didn’t stay gone long. I don’t know where she went. I think had she not been in an accident, she’d have come back. She loved the girls...and she loved me,” he murmured. “I don’t care what other people say. I knew her heart.”
“Did you argue often?” What man would not confront his wife about rumored affairs—and so many?
“Couples disagree, Rush. Yes, we had arguments. Some were more heated than others.”
If Joshua had anything to do with Marilyn’s death, Rush would be shocked. He wouldn’t rule him out, though. Not yet. Nora believed he was hiding something. Rush wasn’t sure it was something sinister, but too many people were keeping things hidden.
FIVE
Rush slid on his hiking boots and tied the laces. At nine o’clock this morning, he’d attended the burial of Marilyn Livingstone, though he’d felt much like an outsider. Only family and a handful of friends had attended. After a small brunch at the main house with immediate family, he’d dropped Nora off at the chalet and went next door to change, and to give her some alone time. She hadn’t said much, but she’d shed a few tears.
Between this case, the weather and Nora in general, his mind was muddied. Nora wouldn’t let up until she had the answers she wanted. She’d proved that by bombarding Len Franklin, who had called Troy, and Rush had listened to a lecture about keeping her nose out of the investigation. Rush agreed, but clearly, she wouldn’t. It would be easier to try to give her some rope and hope she wouldn’t hang herself with it. If they worked together, Rush could at least contain her actions, and if things took a turn for the worse he’d be there to protect her.
Rush had filled Nora in on the bank account but he had kept the part about Marilyn’s need for security to himself. He’d hoped she’d take this day to be with her family, but he couldn’t trust her not to give him the slip and go off on her own. He grabbed his wool coat and faced the treacherous weather. Gray skies. Pregnant with snow. Shivering, he hurried next door to her chalet and knocked.
A few moments later, the door opened and Nora stood in sock feet with a cup of coffee. He wanted to ease into her space, wrap his arms around her and let the warmth seep into him, but those days were over. “Hey,” he said instead.
Rush stepped inside and shut the door on the wintry mix coming down. His pillow was resting on the folded-up blanket he’d placed on the end of the sofa earlier this morning before he left.
The cabin smelled of fresh coffee.
Raking her hands through her hair, Nora slurped her java—didn’t look to be her first—as the gales blasted against the chalet rattling the windows and whistling down the chimney flue. The fire inside popped and flickered. Snow blew from the bare branches and ice crusted the windowpanes and porch railing.
“I’ve been studying weather satellites online, tracking the storm heading our way. A foot of snow in the past three days and an inch of ice.”
“Is that all you’ve been doing?” he asked and poked his nose over her shoulder. The Old Farmer’s Almanac was open in another tab. “Don’t you want a day to mourn?”
“This is my way,” she said quietly and set her mug on the wooden table. “I’ve been looking into the weather from seventeen years ago. But there’s not much to go on. No data for snow depth. Zero inches recorded for rainfall. Mean wind speed had only been four miles per hour. Maximum was seventeen. Not bad enough to knock someone off the road and especially not if the roads weren’t slick with water or ice.”
Rush gave his head a small shake. She might as well be speaking a foreign language. Nora had been infatuated with the weather since as long as he’d known her. Once they’d sneaked out of school their sophomore year to chase a tornado. They’d nearly died. Definitely got grounded. But there wasn’t much Rush wouldn’t have done for or with Nora.
“Why isn’t there much to go on?”
“All weather information is collected by the National Climatic Data Center, but only what’s reported. Not every station reports every day—or at all.”
Nora continued to study weather satellite images and maps, jotting down notes while Rush made a cup of coffee.
She popped up from the screen. “Do you want some coffee?”
He held up his mug and winked.
A fresh flood of pink filled her cheeks. “I can get lost in research sometimes.”
“You don’t say.”
She closed down her laptop, then poured another cup from the pot. Steam billowed into her face. “I know you’re not simply here for coffee.”
“I’m not.” He set his cup on the table. “I’m going to talk to Ward McKay. He’s renovating the hotel over on Route 5.”
“I want to go.”
He folded his arms over his chest. “I knew you’d say that. Which is why I’m going unofficially.”
Nora frowned, then slid her glance over him and blushed. He swallowed hard. Nora may have been aiming for stoicism, but he’d recognized approval in her once-over—attraction. “What?” he asked, forcing her to either lie or tell him she was checking him out.
“I noticed you’re dressed casually. No uniform.”
Half-truth.
He spread his arms out. “I don’t work all the time.”
“Have a life, do ya?”
No. Not really. “Do you?”
“It’s on hold at the moment until I hear from Florida.”
“What if you don’t hear from them? Then what are you going to do?” Would it ever appeal to her to stay?
“I have a few irons in the fire.”
“Any around these parts?” he asked as nonchalantly as possible.
“No. I’m ready to branch out of Tennessee. See new things.” Since when? “Let me change and we can be on our way.” Nora hurried to her bedroom and fifteen minutes later entered the living room dressed in jeans that were tucked into knee-high black boots that matched her sweater with a droopy-looking collar. “What’s wrong? You’re staring at me.”
“Nothing.” It was hard to focus when the prettiest woman he’d ever seen was standing two feet away smelling like an orchard. “But before we go, just because I’m going unofficially doesn’t mean you have free rein. I’m asking the questions and I’m going to be discreet.”
She saluted him and slid her knit cap on her head. “Aye aye, mon capitaine.” Brushing past him, she stepped onto the porch and took a step, slipping.
Rush scrambled and caught her around the waist before her backside met the wooden stair. She turned in his arms, her breath pluming between them, cheeks rosy. She blinked a few times, not hurrying from his arms. And he hadn’t let go either.
A beat passed.
Two.
“You okay?” he asked, hoping his tone hadn’t revealed his feelings. Having her in his arms, so close. So soft. It had unleashed a storm inside him.
“Yeah,” she said with a faint voice. “Good thing you’re here.”
He brushed away a hair that had stuck to her lip gloss. “Guess so.” Righting her, he led her to his truck parked at his chalet and opened the door for her. Once she was inside, he jumped in the driver’s seat and cranked the engine. Christmas oldies blared from the radio and he adjusted the volume.
“You really do love jamming to C
hristmas music,” she said.
“Can’t a guy like Christmas?”
“Not if the guy won’t even put up a Christmas tree.” Rush had always loved Christmas as much as Nora. And here they both were without the festive spirit in the form of a blue spruce or Douglas fir.
“Touché.” They made small talk until they reached the Evergreen Hotel.
“You didn’t mention it was the Parkwells’ hotel.” Parkwells. Ainsley’s family. He hadn’t actually thought about it until now.
Tension in the air swirled over the name.
“Nora, that was a long time ago.” Rush swiveled in his seat to face her. “I can only apologize so many times for not revealing I was dating Ainsley. But when we’re together—I mean when we used to be together—it’s like the rest of the world didn’t exist. It was just you and me. I got caught up in that.”
Nora looked away, then faced him. “I believe you, Rush. But I can’t forget what happened, and I’m going to feel awkward around Ainsley. I can’t help it.”
Rush understood. “If it makes you feel any better, she won’t be here. She only worked for her dad while she was in school. She’s a guidance counselor for the middle and high school. Kids won’t be out for a few more days.”
“Okay.”
“And thank you. For believing me.”
She nodded.
“Now let’s go see Ward McKay and hope he’ll give us some information.”
They hurried to the main doors and entered, shutting out the biting cold. Some of the walls were charred. Destroyed.
“What happened?” Nora asked.
“Fire last month. Bad wiring. It’ll be summer before they can reopen.”
The sound of hammers, drills and shuffling about drew their attention past the elevators and down one of the first-floor halls. “Parkwell can’t seem to catch a break,” Rush muttered as they stepped over heavy plastic, where painting crews had been working.
“What do you mean?” Nora asked.
He should have kept his mutter quiet. Ainsley had confided in him while they were dating that her father seemed to fall into bad investments and had been pretty stressed out. It was straining her parents’ marriage. But then he’d bought this small hotel and things seemed to look up. Now a fire.
“Just, he hasn’t been the star of the show when it comes to business deals.” He nonchalantly shrugged and kept moving. Construction crew members passed by and he stopped one. “Hey, you seen Ward?”
“Second floor,” one mumbled, and hauled some lumber on his shoulder into another room. “Use the stairs. Elevators aren’t working right now.”
“Thanks.” At the end of the hall, the stairwell door was already open and they climbed the flight of stairs that led to the second floor. More noisy construction was going on up here along with some classic rock music.
Rush and Nora wandered the hall until Rush spotted Ward. Guy had been a legend on the football field—played some college ball for the Vols. But like most people, he made his way back home. Unlike Nora, who wanted nothing more than to stay gone. Being here seemed almost painful for her and not only because of the memories of her mother. Something more was going on but she refused to confide in Rush. And he couldn’t push. He was keeping the kiss between the mystery man and Marilyn to himself.
Nora didn’t trust him with her feelings. Rush couldn’t trust her with this. She’d already proved she wasn’t going to be discreet. If she found out about what Rush had seen, she’d go vigilante and ignore others’ feelings. Might even falsely accuse someone. And that’s another reason he’d let her come along. To test her with Ward. If she could be discreet and not hotheaded this time, he’d reveal the truth. Overly cautious was better than hurting and wrecking innocent lives.
“Hey, Ward,” Rush said.
“Were you having an affair with my mom and if so, did you have anything to do with her death?” Nora asked.
So much for trust and discretion.
* * *
Heat filled Nora’s cheeks as Rush’s sight bored into the side of her head. Okay, she’d been blunt, but she was losing time. Florida could call any minute and she’d be leaving. And if she did, no one would put in the time or effort like herself.
Ward McKay slowly removed his construction hat and eyed her with a mix of regret and heat. “Hello to you too, Nora.”
Rush needled her lower back and stepped in front of her. “Sorry, Ward.”
Sorry? This man could be a murderer. She could have used more tact, sure, but apologizing? Not in a million years.
Ward ran his hand through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. “I figured you’d eventually come calling about Marilyn. Didn’t realize you deputized her daughter.”
Rush shot Nora a glare. “I didn’t. We’re here unofficially.”
Eyeing Nora, Ward grunted. “Doesn’t feel unofficial.”
Nora couldn’t keep silent. “Official. Unofficial. Either way, you might have some answers. Did you have an affair with my mother?”
Ward studied his feet, then looked at Nora. He tossed out his hands. “What do you want me to say? I’m sorry? Because I am, but I wasn’t then.”
His words punched her straight in the stomach. She nearly bowled over from the blow. For the first time ever, she heard the truth from someone who had no reason to lie.
Rush lightly touched her upper back.
“Did my father know?” she choked out. There was no denying it anymore.
Ward licked his lower lip and jammed his hands into his pockets. “I never told him. Doubtful Mari did.”
“Marilyn. Her name was Marilyn.” How dare he use a pet name for her mother in front of her! Where was the respect?
He turned to Rush. “I suspect that Joshua has an idea. He’s never approached me, though.”
“How long was the affair?” Rush asked.
“A year.”
A whole year? Nora couldn’t breathe. This was a bad idea. Maybe she should have listened to Rush. She wasn’t as prepared to hear these things as she thought.
“Did you see her the night she died?” Rush asked.
“I did. But we were over by then. She called things off.” His tone held sorrow and even regret. The man had genuinely been in love with her mother! He pulled his phone from his pocket, checked it and texted. “Sorry. Work stuff.”
“Did the affair contribute to your divorce and family leaving town?” Rush slightly cringed as if asking the question hurt.
“Most definitely.” He paused. “Nora, I really would rather not discuss this in front of you.”
“If you’re embarrassed, that’s on you, Ward.” She wouldn’t give him an ounce of easy.
“I’m not. I don’t want you to have to hear this.”
“You weren’t thinking about me then! Why think about me now?” Venom dripped from her words, all the hurt and anger. She couldn’t stop it if she wanted to. “You hurt so many people! How could you?” Unwanted tears sprang in her eyes.
Rush faced Nora, his back to Ward, and he gently put his hands on her shoulders, leaning close and lowering his voice. “Why don’t you go wash your face. Take a few moments. I’ll finish this up and tell you everything you want or need to know.”
As much as she hated it, she needed to pull it together. “Fine,” she said reluctantly.
“Bathroom on the second floor isn’t working. Use the one on the first. Down the hall from the pool. Under construction but in working order,” Ward offered. “I’m sorry, Nora.”
“Save it, Ward.” She stomped from the hotel room and down the hall to the stairwell. On the first floor, she turned right, the cold draft seeping through her thick gray peacoat. Securing her scarf tighter around her neck, she passed plastic-covered walls and doors. The hard truth had left her exposed and vulnerable. She couldn’t stop imagining Ward and her mother as a couple. Her
father all alone. Those images turned her stomach.
Rush had warned her.
She hadn’t listened.
Hammering and drilling echoed through the lonely, dark hall. Metal burning turned up her nose.
Bathroom. Covered in the same heavy Visqueen.
She shoved it aside, the rattling noise sending her insides kangarooing. Bending, she checked for feet under the stalls. She went to the mirror, ran water and waited on it to warm.
She closed her eyes, splashed water on her face.
Suddenly she was yanked away from the faucet, a strong grip on her coat collar. Through the mirror, a burly man’s partially covered face stared back. He wore a construction hat and a painter’s mask.
Nowhere to run.
Swinging her purse, she caught him on the shoulder but it didn’t stop him. He slammed her back against the wall by the bathroom door.
Heart pounding, she dug her nails into his hands that were clutching her throat.
“You don’t listen! You must have a death wish.”
Snatching the hanging Visqueen from the door, he ripped it as she kicked and swung, but his grip around her throat was a force, and his hands were like vises. Nora let out a strangled cry as he draped the plastic like a tight blanket across her face.
Can’t breathe!
Panic set in. Blood pounded in her temples.
Pop!
Pop!
Had he shot her?
She couldn’t see. Every time she inhaled, plastic entered her mouth, the taste dirty and bitter.
God, help me! He’d yanked the thick material across her face and nail-gunned it to the wall, trapping her to suffocate! The last thing she heard was him laughing.
Nora couldn’t tear through it. Too thick.
Couldn’t get oxygen.
Couldn’t calm down. Hysteria was taking over. With each scream, she inhaled the plastic.
No air. Spots formed. Sweat slicked her temples and back as she clawed at the plastic.
She was passing out.
“Nora! You down here?” Rush called out. “Hey, I don’t want to come in, but I will if you don’t say something.”
Cold Case Christmas Page 6
