Buried Sins (16 page)

“So you decided to steal the quilt for her?” He let skepticism weigh his voice.

“Not steal, no. I thought if I showed it to her, maybe she’d decide it wasn’t that great and lose interest. Or if not, I’d return it, come to Caroline, make her a fair offer. I thought I’d have it back before anyone even knew it was missing. You don’t want to arrest me for that. Think of the ugly publicity.”

That was the wrong argument to use on him. In his book, no one was above the law. Maybe it would be tough to go up against the Morris family, but—

“That’s not why your mother wants the quilt.” Caroline walked toward Keith, her gaze fixed on him.

Zach took a sidestep that put his body between them, shocked by the wave of protectiveness that surged through him. “What do you mean?”

She didn’t veer from her focus on Keith, and she spoke to him as if there were no one else there. “You don’t know what we found out. We already had Elizabeth’s letter from her sister. Now we have copies of the ones she wrote.”

Zach shot a glance toward Andrea, who seemed like the one most likely to give him a sensible explanation.

“The Elizabeth Unger who made the quilt,” she said. She turned her attention back on her sister. “Go on, Caro. What did you figure out?”

“Elizabeth talked about making the quilt according to the directions she’d been sent. About putting it out for its first use. About a Friend being betrayed and arrested, and how their courage was nothing to that of the people they were trying to help.” She turned toward the others then, her eyes alight with excitement. “Don’t you see? I remember reading about it—some scholars believe that quilts were used as signals on the Underground Railroad, guiding escaping slaves to safe houses.”

“This area was one of the major routes.” Everyone knew that. There was even a historical tour of Underground Railroad sites.

“Elizabeth was a perfect person to get involved—deeply religious, coming from Boston, which was a center for the abolitionist movement.” Caroline went on as if he hadn’t spoken. “The Friend she talked about…the word was capitalized because she literally meant Friend, one of the local Quakers who were part of the network. She said someone in the area betrayed him to the slavecatchers.” She swung back on Keith. “That’s what your mother didn’t want me to find out.”

He’d become so involved in her story that he’d almost forgotten about Keith. Now he saw that the man’s face had blanched.

“What about it, Keith? Time to stop dancing around the truth.”

“One of your mother’s prized ancestors was the traitor. That’s it, isn’t it?” Andrea was on her feet now, shaking off her husband’s restraining arm. “You’re trying to save your family reputation.”

Keith shook his head helplessly, sagging in the chair. “Mother knew the family stories about it. When she heard about the quilt, heard that Caroline was going to display it, was looking into the history—she thought it was all going to come out. She wouldn’t let me alone about it. She said I had to destroy the quilt, make it look like vandals had broken in, anything. I didn’t want to, but I couldn’t help it.”

Zach planted his hands on his hips. “And what about the rest of it? Breaking into this apartment, forcing Caroline’s car off the road last night.”

Cal cleared his throat, the sound breaking through Zach’s fury. “Much as I hate to sound like the attorney I used to be, Chief, don’t you think you ought to caution him before he answers that question?”

The words restored his common sense. He was appalled at himself. He was letting his feelings for Caro get in the way of his duty.

He reached for Keith’s arm. “Come on. Let’s continue this down at headquarters.”

“No, no, don’t.” Keith shrank away from him. “I don’t need an attorney. I didn’t do anything else, I swear it. I heard about her troubles, but it wasn’t me. And I couldn’t have done anything last night—you should know that. I was at the town council meeting. It went on until nearly eleven. The council members will tell you. I was there the whole time.”

“I won’t press charges.”

The quiet statement had him swiveling toward Caro. “What are you talking about? He’s admitted it.”

“But he didn’t do the other things. I never thought he did.”

No, she wouldn’t have believed it could be that easy. Besides, she believed Tony was still alive. “We caught him red-handed running away with that quilt in his arms.”

“We got it back. There’s no harm done.” For a moment she looked ready to burst into tears. “I don’t want the trouble it would cause.”

“That’s not an excuse for not doing your duty.” Now it was as if they were the only two people in the room. She knew how he felt about duty. And why.

“Your duty. Not mine.” She looked immeasurably tired. “If I don’t press charges, you can’t arrest him, can you?”

“No. He can’t.” Keith straightened. “I’m very grateful, Caroline. I hope you won’t—”

“That’s not all.” Now it was Rachel. He’d always thought her the gentle one of the sisters, but at the moment she had fire in her eyes. “There’s a condition to not pressing charges.”

Zach’s gaze crossed with Cal’s. Cal gave a rueful shrug. “I suggest both of us contract temporary deafness. Whatever she’s going to propose, we shouldn’t hear.”

That was probably good advice, but he couldn’t pretend none of this ever happened.

“You resign.” Rachel said, the tone of her voice allowing no wiggle room. “It’s in the paper tomorrow, or we press charges. And you and your mother walk on eggshells around us from now on. No more tricks, no gossip, nothing.”

“I agree. Anything. Everything.” Keith was practically babbling in his efforts to get this over with. “I’ll do it.”

Rachel glanced at her sisters. She must have seen agreement in their faces. “That’s it, then.”

He watched, fuming, as Keith gave them all a vague, meaningless smile and bolted from the apartment. He couldn’t arrest him if they wouldn’t press charges. He resented having the decision taken out of his control. His duty—

“Relax, Chief.” Cal nudged him. The sisters were hugging, half laughing, half crying. “It wasn’t done according to the book, but at least my wife isn’t going to jail for braining the mayor with a poker, Caroline knows the story of her quilt, Rachel got her licks in and Keith is losing the thing that’s most important to him. Besides, you’re getting rid of the worst thorn under your skin who ever took office in the township. It might not be according to Hoyle, but seems to me it worked out pretty well.”

“Not according to the law.”

Cal shrugged. “The law has its limitations. I’d rather see justice.”

It wasn’t his interpretation of doing his duty, but clearly he could do nothing about it. He went to Caro. “I’ll be leaving, then.”

This wasn’t over, not by a long shot. Keith might be removed from the running, but Caro was still in trouble, whether she knew it or not.

“Thank you.” Her green eyes glistened with tears when she looked at him.

“You’re welcome. I hope the three of you know what you’re doing.”

He thought about the possible charges hanging over her in regard to the museum theft. She’d been generous to Keith. He suspected the insurance investigator wouldn’t be generous toward her.

Zach sat in his office the next afternoon, scowling at the day’s issue of the
Churchville Gazette
. True to his word, the announcement of Keith’s resignation appeared prominently on the front page. Keith must have run straight home and called the paper to make the deadline.

He tossed the paper aside. Maybe Cal had a point, but he still wasn’t satisfied. He had a duty that Cal didn’t, and he didn’t like being finagled out of doing it for the sake of convenience.

He ignored the phone ringing in the outer office, shoving his chair back. He knew what was really sticking in his craw. He’d let himself start to care about Caro Hampton against his common sense, against his professional duty, against everything he knew was right and sensible. He’d told her more about himself than he’d told anyone other than family, and look where it had gotten him—compromising his duty for a woman who obviously didn’t return his feelings.

Eric Snyder opened the door without knocking and poked his head in. “You’d better take this call, Chief. It’s the Santa Fe police.”

Zach glared at him. “I’ve got it. Shut the door. And hang up.”

He picked up the phone, waiting until he heard the click that told him the line was private. “Chief Burkhalter here.”

“Chief. This is Charles Rojas. We spoke a while back about Tony Gibson and his widow.”

“I remember, Detective.” The neutral tone of his voice must have alerted the man that he wasn’t feeling particularly cooperative. They’d pretty much told him to buzz off, hadn’t they?

“Yes, right,” Rojas said quickly. “And you were real helpful, sending along that sketch of Leonard Decker the way you did.”

He grunted. That hadn’t seemed to lead anywhere, as far as he could see.

“Ms. Hampton still there, is she?”

“Yes.” He sat up straight. Something was going on. Santa Fe PD hadn’t called him just to chat. “What about it?”

“We just found his body.”

He clutched the receiver, mind working feverishly. If Leonard Decker was dead in Santa Fe, it was highly unlikely he’d been running around this part of Pennsylvania trying to make Caro believe her husband was still alive. “When?”

“That’s the thing.” The tone of the detective’s voice told him there was bad news coming. “He’s been in the river, but the ME pegs the time of death as somewhere around the same time Ms. Hampton left Santa Fe. We consider that an interesting coincidence.”

“If you’re suggesting that Ms. Hampton killed him—” He stopped. He wouldn’t do Caroline any favors by alienating the investigator. Not that he could do her favors in any event. His duty was all he could do. “Do you know anything about the forgery of some jewelry at the gallery where she worked?”

He could almost sense the interest on the other end. “How do you know about that, I wonder? Have you been holding out on us, Chief?”

“I might ask you the same thing, Detective.” This was his jurisdiction, after all.

Rojas paused. “Okay,” he said finally. “We’ve been hearing rumors, but no one is talking—not the gallery people, not the victim, certainly not the insurance investigators.”

“One of the insurance investigators is here. Keeping an eye on Ms. Hampton. He claims she had the expertise to make the switch, but no proof.”

Rojas whistled softly. “Told you more than they have us, then.”

“He had to. I was about to arrest him for trespassing.”

“That’ll do it, all right.” Rojas chuckled. “Look, Chief, seems to me it’s time for us to put our cards on the table. Maybe we can help each other.”

And who will help Caroline?
The voice at the back of his mind was insistent, but he managed to silence it. If she was innocent, Caroline would only be helped by finding out the truth. And if she was guilty—

If she was guilty, his feelings had nothing to do with it. He’d do his duty.

“I’m listening,” he said.

C
aroline stood by the barn doors, watching as the movers carried the remnants of her life in Santa Fe into the barn. With a new lock once again installed by Cal and with Keith frightened off for good, her things should be safe until she had the heart to go through them.

She fidgeted restlessly as box after box was carried inside. Who would have thought she had so much stuff? If she’d packed it herself, she’d have gotten rid of things, including most of Tony’s belongings. As it was, she’d simply taken what would fit in her car and left the rest to the movers. They’d have packed everything down to the Sunday paper and the cans of tuna fish in the cabinet.

Tony’s things rightfully belonged to Mary Alice now. Would she want them? That was yet another hurdle, one she didn’t want to face.

Speaking of facing things, maybe she ought to admit what was really bothering her. Not the task of sorting through her old life. It was the fact that she hadn’t seen Zach since the night before last, when they’d exposed Keith’s activities.

She should have realized she was treading on his devotion to duty when she took matters in her own hands and settled with Keith. But didn’t he see that she and her sisters had done him a favor? If it had come down to the chief of police arresting the mayor, it would have been a three-ring circus. No one could predict how something like that would turn out. Zach might have been the one to suffer most, not that he’d let that stop him.

She sensed movement behind her and turned to see Francine picking her way along the path gingerly as if it were lined with snakes. She wore capri pants and a snug top with a pair of high-heeled sandals that were inappropriate anywhere outdoors.

She teetered to a stop next to Caro. “I see your belongings have finally arrived. It might have been faster to have sent them by mule train.”

Caro shrugged. “I suppose. I wasn’t in any hurry to get them. It just means I have to sort everything out.”

“No need to rush into doing it.” Francine touched her lightly, sympathetically, on the arm, surprising her. Francine wasn’t a touching person, generally. Caro had never seen her hug anyone other than her late husband or a potential big donor to one of her charities.

Hearing Francine voice what she’d just been thinking made her reconsider. “Thanks, but I’d better face it. After all, Tony’s things don’t really belong to me.”

“If you believe that hick sheriff knows what he’s doing.” Francine’s tone made it clear that she doubted it.

“Police chief, not sheriff,” she corrected, a little pang reminding her that she was unlikely to be talking with Zach on that subject, or any other, anytime soon.

“At least that business with the quilt has been cleared up.” Francine seemed to be looking for something to distract her from that rather sad parade of belongings. “The things these small-town folks don’t get up to. Imagine committing robbery to cover up something that happened 150 years ago.”

“If someone threatened to expose something harmful about Garner’s family, you’d jump into action quickly enough.”

Francine stiffened a little at the mention of her late husband, but then she smiled and shrugged. “Believe me, I’d find a better way of dealing with it. A little blackmail goes a long way in some circles.”

“Maybe so. Keith isn’t as sophisticated as you.”

“You’re convinced he wasn’t the man who forced you off the road? Maybe your police chief was too quick to accept that alibi.”

“Not my police chief. And no, it couldn’t have been Keith, unless he has an identical twin no one knows about. He was in full view at a town council meeting all evening.”

“Well, I suppose it’ll sort itself out.” Faint lines appeared between Francine’s brows. “If there is any chance it was Tony, that’s another reason not to do anything about his belongings, you know.”

“I suppose so. But I hate having this unfinished business hanging over me. And, frankly, I’m not sure I owe Tony any kind of loyalty at this point.”

“But, Caroline—” She stopped, because a familiar police car was pulling up behind the moving van.

Zach got out, very stiff and correct, dark glasses hiding his eyes. Something in her tensed as he approached. If only he’d let her explain why she’d intervened with Keith, maybe she could clear that air between them.

“Zach.” She forced a cheerful note into her voice. “You remember my friend Francine Carrington.”

He gave Francine a curt nod and turned back to her.

“I’m afraid I’ll have to ask you to come down to the police station with me.”

She blinked. “Look, if this is about Keith again—”

“It has nothing to with that.”

“What, then?” She couldn’t keep her voice from rising. “What’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

A tiny muscle twitched at his jaw, the only acknowledgment of her words. “You need to come with me now. Two detectives from Santa Fe will be arriving shortly to question you.”

She heard Francine’s sharp, indrawn breath. She didn’t seem to be breathing at all. “Question me about what? Tony?”

“About Leonard Decker. The man you said threatened and harassed you.”

“I’ve already told you everything about that.” Why are you doing this? That was what she wanted to say. Why are you looking at me as if I’m a criminal?

“He’s been found. Dead. He was murdered about the time you ran away from Santa Fe.”

She was vaguely aware of Francine murmuring that she’d get her sisters and hurrying off toward the house, teetering a little on her heels. Silly, to notice that at a time like this.

And then all she could feel was the iron grip of Zach’s hand on her arm as he led her to the police car.

They filled up Zach’s tiny office at the police station—she, Zach and the two officers from Santa Fe—one short and burly, the other tall, young, almost elegant in his Western dress. She felt as if they were using up all the air in the room, leaving none for her.

“Now, Mrs. Gibson, you must see that it’s in your best interest to be honest with us.” The younger one was smooth and persuasive.

“Hampton.” That was all she could think of to say. “We—I found out that Tony had a wife in Philadelphia he hadn’t bothered to divorce before he married me.”

That probably only increased their suspicion of her, but she was too tired to think what was the best thing to say. If Zach, who knew her, could believe her capable of murder, what chance did she have of convincing anyone else?

Zach. The pain cut deeper than any she’d ever known, even deeper than the knowledge of Tony’s betrayal. Maybe that was because she’d always suspected, at some level, that Tony wasn’t honest. Zach was a man of integrity. If he believed this, maybe she really wasn’t worth being loved.

Zach moved slightly in his chair. “Ms. Hampton has not been apprised of her right to have an attorney present.”

The detective shot him a look of dislike. “I’m sure Ms. Hampton would rather have a friendly talk with us than a formal interrogation with an attorney present.”

What Zach would have said to that she didn’t know, because the door opened and Cal burst in. Zach shot to his feet. “Burke, you’re not licensed to practice law in Pennsylvania. Get out.”

“I’m not, but I’ve brought someone who is.” He ushered in a graying, distinguished-looking man who reminded her in some way of Grandfather. “Caro, this is Robert Hanson. He’s an old friend of your grandparents’ and he’s your attorney. Don’t answer any questions unless he tells you to.” Cal bent to press his cheek against hers before anyone could object. “It’s going to be all right,” he whispered. “We’re all waiting outside and praying for you.”

“Out.” The older of the detectives grabbed Cal and shoved him out of the office. He grinned and gave her a thumbs-up as he went.

The ice that encased her began to thaw. They were here. They were taking care of her. Even Zach, in his way, hadn’t let them bully her into talking without an attorney. Maybe somehow she was going to get through this.

There were moments when she doubted that, over the next two hours, when the wrangling between Hanson and the detectives turned into a blur of noise that made her dizzy. When that happened, she clung to the thought of them—her family, waiting for her.

Someone else was here with her.
Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.
She’d looked for a reference to what Emma had said in the Bible she’d found on her bedside table. Those were the words that expressed Emma’s thoughts perfectly.
Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you.

She listened to the attorney and answered only the questions he allowed, convinced that those questions made no sense. She’d never spoken to Decker before that day in the plaza, never heard Tony mention his name. She didn’t know what Tony had been involved in. He’d lied to her from the first time she met him.

Maybe her voice had trembled on that, because the attorney’s hand had closed warmly over hers, as if it were Grandfather there next to her.

“I think that’ll be all Ms. Hampton will answer today,” he said.

The detective lost his urbane charm, leaning toward her with a quick, threatening movement. She didn’t think she reacted, but Zach was between them in an instant.

“You heard the attorney. Now either you’re going to charge Ms. Hampton or let her go.”

“Stay out of this, Burkhalter. This is our case.”

“This is my jurisdiction.” Zach’s voice carried no expression at all, but it was like a door clanging shut. “Charge her or let her go.”

“Of course Chief Burkhalter knew perfectly well they didn’t have enough evidence to charge her.” Robert Hanson leaned back in the leather chair that had once been her grandfather’s, accepting a mug of coffee from the tray Emma held. They’d all come back to the library at the inn for a council of war once she’d finally been released. “He’s a good man to have on your side, my dear.”

She could only stare at the man from her place on the couch between her sisters. “I don’t think he is.”

“Listen to Mr. Hanson,” Cal advised. He took a tray of sandwiches Emma had put on the table and began forcing them on people. “That could have been a lot worse if Zach hadn’t been looking out for your rights.”

Her rights. Yes, she supposed Zach would do that for anyone. It was part of doing his duty. She suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to cry.

She got to her feet, drawing startled glances. “I…I know we have to talk this over, but I can’t seem to think. I need to take a hot shower, change my clothes, and then maybe I’ll be able to eat something.”

Cal glanced toward the attorney. “Maybe we’d better get this over now, Caro. Mr. Hanson has a busy schedule.”

But Hanson waved with a thickly piled ham sandwich. “Not at all. I’ll just sit here and catch up with Katherine. Take your time, my dear. I know the atmosphere of suspicion can seem to contaminate you when you’re not used to it.”

Andrea and Rachel stood up, one on either side of her. “We’ll go with you,” Andrea said firmly, and took her arm.

All she wanted was to be left alone to let the tears out, but she knew she’d never get rid of them that easily. She let them walk with her back to the apartment, trying to nod and smile at their attempts to distract her.

Once Rachel had run a hot tub, more relaxing than a shower, she insisted, and Andrea had laid out a change of clothes, she shooed them toward the door.

“I can handle the rest of it,” she said firmly. “I know how to take a bath by myself. I’ll come back as soon as I feel a little more together. You go now and keep those two lawyers from scaring Grams with their stories, all right?”

Her sisters exchanged glances. “She has a point,” Andrea admitted.

“Maybe we are hovering a little,” Rachel said. “All right. But if you’re not back in an hour, we’re coming for you.”

“I will be. Go.” She shoved them out the door and locked it behind them.

The confident manner only lasted until the door closed. She had to drag herself back up to the loft. She peeled off her clothes, tossing them to the back of the closet. Maybe she’d throw them away.

Only when she lay back in the tub did the tears come. Whatever they might say about Zach defending her, she knew things were over between them. She’d known all along it couldn’t possibly work, but she hadn’t been able to quash that tiny flicker of hope. Well, now it was gone for good.

She sat up, sloshing water over the tub. How ridiculous was this, hiding away to cry while people who loved her made plans for her defense. She wasn’t a child who needed protection, much as she appreciated what they were trying to do.

The familiar urge to run had disappeared completely, she realized with surprise. She’d grieve, and go on grieving for the loss of whatever she might have had with Zach, but she wouldn’t run. She’d stay and face this.

She got out, dried herself, made up her face and brushed her hair free of tangles. Then she put on the clothes her sister had laid out and went down the stairs.

They’d be surprised to see her back so soon. Well, she was surprised, too. But it was time she started acting like one of the grown-ups.

She opened the door, stepped outside and turned to shut it. She sensed movement behind her, felt a fierce pain in her head and then slid into blackness.