Carolina Moon (40 page)

“No, Mama. I have no guilt for taking my happiness or loving a woman I also admire and respect.”

“Respect?” Margaret spat out. “You can speak of respect?”

“Yes. I’ve never known anyone I respect more. So guilt plays no part here. But I will see to it you have a comfortable home.”

“I need nothing from you. I have money of my own.”

“I know that. Take whatever time you need to decide. Whatever that decision is, I hope you’ll be happy with it. Or at least content. I wish…” He closed his eyes a moment, weary from maintaining the facade of manners. “I wish there was more between us than this. I wish I knew why there can’t be. We disappoint each other, Mama. I’m sorry for that.”

She had to press her lips together to stop their trembling. “When I leave this house, you’ll be dead to me.”

Grief swam into his eyes, swirled there, then cleared away. “Yes, I know.”

He stepped back, then quietly shut the door between them.

Alone, Margaret sank onto the bed and listened to the silence.

Cade gathered what paperwork he thought he’d need over the next day or two, and listened to his phone messages while he loaded his briefcase. He needed to check in with Piney, return calls from the factory, and run by a couple of the rental units. There was a board meeting the next day, but that could be rescheduled.

His quarterly meeting with his bookkeeper couldn’t. He’d just have to find a safe place to plant Tory for a few hours.

He glanced at his watch, picked up the phone. Faith answered, her voice slurred with sleep.

“Where’s Wade?”

“Hmmm? Down with a cocker spaniel or something. What time is it?”

“It’s after nine.”

“Go away. I’m sleeping.”

“I’m coming into town. Tory’s with me. She’s making noises about going into the shop. She doesn’t plan to open today, but I expect she wants to find something to keep her busy. I want you to keep an eye out, then go over and stay with her.”

“Maybe you didn’t hear me. I’m sleeping.”

“Get up. We’ll be there within a half hour.”

“You’re awful damn bossy this morning.”

“I don’t want either of you alone until Bodeen’s in custody. You stick with her, you hear? I’ll be back around as soon as I can.”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with her?”

“You’ll think of something. Get up,” he repeated, then broke the connection. Satisfied, he carried his briefcase downstairs.

The first thing he noticed was that Tory’s plate was nearly cleared. The second was that she’d been crying.

“What’s wrong? What did you say to her?”

“Oh, stop fussing.” Lilah swatted him off like a fly. “She’s had herself a nice weep and she’s the better for it. Isn’t that so, little girl?”

“Yes. Thanks. I can’t eat any more, Lilah. I really can’t.”

Lips pursed, Lilah studied the plate, then nodded. “You did all right.” She glanced over at Cade. “Will Miss Margaret or the judge be wanting breakfast?”

“I don’t think so. My mother’s made arrangements to leave this afternoon.”

“She going through with it?”

“Apparently. I don’t want you staying here alone, Lilah. I thought you might like to visit your sister for a couple of days.”

“I could do that.” She picked up Tory’s plate to carry it to the sink. “I’ll wait and see, if it’s all the same to you Cade.”

“I’ll check in later.”

“Best thing, her going. She breaks free of this house, she’ll be the happier for it in the long run.”

“I hope you’re right. You call your sister,” he said and held out a hand for Tory.

Tory got to her feet, and after a moment’s hesitation stepped over to press her cheek to Lilah’s. “Thank you.”

“You’re a good girl. Just remember to hold on to your own.”

“I’m going to.”

She waited until they were outside, in the car and driving
down the tree-lined lane away from the house. “I don’t want a big wedding.”

Cade arched his brows. “Okay.”

“I’d like to do it as quietly as possible and as …”

“And?”

He made the turn onto the road. Tory glanced out the window toward the edges of the swamp. “And as soon as possible.”

“Why?”

How like him to ask, she thought, and turned to him again. “Because I want to start our life. I want to begin.”

“We’ll arrange for the license tomorrow. Will that suit you?”

“Yes.” She laid a hand over his. “That suits me fine.”

Smiling at him, she saw nothing, felt nothing from the marsh. Or what waited in it.

Faith strolled across to Southern Comfort when she saw Cade’s car pull up. She put on a big smile and hooked her arm companionably through Cade’s. “There you are. I thought you’d forgotten.”

“Forgotten?”

“Remember, honey, you said I could borrow your car today. Here you go.” She dropped her own keys in his hand and fluttered her lashes. “So sweet of you, too. Isn’t he just the best brother, Tory? He knows I have a partiality for his little convertible, and he’s always letting me borrow it.”

She nipped the keys out of Cade’s fingers, then gave him a big, noisy kiss. “Tory, I’m just bored silly with Wade so busy today. I’m just going to keep you company awhile, all right? I’m thinking of buying Wade one of those fat candlesticks you’ve got in here.”

Smoothly, she transferred her grip from Cade to Tory. “His place could sure use some fixing up. Well, you’ve seen it yourself, so you know. Looks like I’m going to be spending more time there, and I just can’t abide that primitive male decor of his. Car’s around the back of Wade’s building,” she called out to Cade, as she steered Tory toward the door. “It’s low on gas.”

With a last glance at Cade’s annoyed face, Tory unlocked the shop. “Was the car a bribe?”

“No, he didn’t trouble to offer a bribe. He woke me up this morning, so he’s got to pay a price. He wants us looking out for each other.”

“Where’s your dog?”

“Oh, she’s having a fine time at Wade’s.” Faith turned to the window and waved cheerfully to Cade. “Oh, he’s steaming. He just hates for me to drive this toy of his.”

“So naturally you drive it as often as possible.”

“Naturally. Got anything cold to drink? It’s hot enough to steal your breath out there today.”

“In the back. Help yourself.”

“Are you opening today?”

“No. I don’t want people today. So don’t be offended if I ignore you.”

“Same goes.”

Faith slipped into the back room and came back with two bottles of Coke. Tory had the music on low and was busy with glass cleaner and a cloth. “You might as well give me something to do before I do die of boredom.”

Tory held out the cloth. “You ought to be able to manage this. I have plenty of work in the back. Please don’t let anyone in. If someone comes to the door just tell them we’re closed today.”

“Fine by me.”

She shrugged as Tory went into the back, then entertained herself by rearranging stock to her liking, imagining what it would be like to run a shop.

Entirely too much work, she decided, too much trouble. Though it was fun to be around so many nice things and speculate who would buy what.

She found the keys for the jewelry case behind the counter and tried on several pairs of earrings, admired a bracelet fashioned out of a coil of silver and tried that on as well.

When someone knocked on the door, she jumped guiltily, and closed the display.

She didn’t recognize the faces. The man and woman
stood outside the door studying her as she studied them. It was a shame, Faith thought, that Tory wasn’t open. At least customers would be a diversion.

Faith smiled brightly and tapped the closed sign. The woman held up a badge.

“Oops.” The FBI, she thought. An even better diversion. She unlocked the door.

“Miss Bodeen?”

“No, she’s in the back.” Faith took a moment to size them up. The woman was tall and tough, with short black hair and cool dark eyes. She wore what Faith considered a very unflattering gray suit and dead-ugly shoes.

The man had more potential, with curling brown hair and a square jaw with a sexy little dent in it. She tried the smile on him and got the faintest glimmer of response. “I’ve never met an FBI agent before. I guess I’m a little flustered.”

“Would you ask Miss Bodeen to come out?” the woman requested.

“Of course. Just excuse me for one minute. Y’all wait right here.” She hurried to the stockroom, closed the door behind her. “It’s the FBI.”

Tory’s head snapped up. “Here?”

“Right out there. A man and a woman, and nothing like those two on the TV show. He’s not half bad, but she’s wearing a suit I wouldn’t be buried in. She’s a Yankee, too. I don’t know about him. He hasn’t opened his mouth. Ask me, she runs the show.”

“For God’s sake, what do I care about that?” Tory got to her feet, but her knees were shaking.

Before she could steady herself, there was a brisk knock on the door, and it opened. “Miss Bodeen?”

“Yes, I—yes.”

“I’m Special Agent Tatia Lynn Williams.” The woman showed her badge again. “And this is Special Agent Marks. We need to speak with you.”

“Have you found my father?”

“Not at this time. Has he contacted you?”

“No. I haven’t seen him, or heard from him. He’d know I wouldn’t help him.”

“We’d like to ask you some questions.” Williams gave Faith a pointed look.

Instantly Faith scooted behind the desk to wrap an arm around Tory’s shoulder. “This is my brother’s fiancée. I promised him I’d stay with her. I won’t break my word to my brother.”

Marks took out his notebook, flipped pages. “And you would be?”

“Faith Lavelle. Tory’s going through a very distressing time. I’m staying with her.”

“You’re acquainted with Hannibal Bodeen?”

“I know him. And I believe he killed my sister eighteen years ago.”

“We have no evidence of that,” Williams said flatly. “Miss Bodeen, when did you last see your mother?”

“In April. My uncle and I went to see her. I’ve been estranged from my parents for a number of years. I hadn’t seen her since I was twenty, or my father, either. Until he came here, to my shop.”

“And at that time you were aware he was a fugitive.”

“Yes.”

“Yet you gave him money.”

“He took money,” Tory corrected. “But I’d have given it to him to keep him away from me.”

“Your father was physically violent with you.”

“All of my life.” Giving in, Tory sat.

“And with your mother?”

“No, not really. He didn’t have to be. I believe he battered her in more recent years, when I wasn’t there. But that would be speculation.”

“I’m told you don’t have to speculate.” Williams glanced up, fixed her eyes on Tory’s face. “You claim to be psychic.”

“I don’t claim anything.”

“You were involved in several cases of abducted children a few years ago.”

“What would that have to do with my mother’s murder?”

“You were friends with Hope Lavelle.” Marks picked
up the pattern smoothly, slid into a chair himself while his partner remained standing.

“Yes, very good friends.”

“And you led her family and the authorities to her body.”

“Yes. I’m sure you have the reports. There’s nothing I can add to them.”

“You claimed to have seen her murder.” When Tory didn’t respond, Marks leaned forward. “Recently, you enlisted the aid of Abigail Lawrence, an attorney in Charleston. You were interested in a series of sexual homicides. Why?”

“Because they were all killed by the same person, the same person who murdered Hope. Because each of them was Hope to him, at a different age.”

“You … sense this,” Williams commented, and drew Tory’s gaze.

“I know this. I don’t expect you to believe me.”

“If you know this,” Williams continued, “why didn’t you come forward?”

“To what purpose? To amuse someone like you? To have what happened to Jonah Mansfield dragged up again and my part in it thrown in my face? You know all there is to know about me, Agent Williams.”

Marks took a plastic bag from his pocket, tossed it on the desk. Inside was a single earring, a simple gold hoop. “What can you tell us about that?”

Tory kept her hands in her lap. “It’s an earring.”

“One of the things we know is you’re very cool under fire.” Williams stepped forward. “You were interested enough in the murders to gather information on them. Aren’t you interested enough to see what you can pick up, let’s say, from that?”

“I’ve told you all I can about my father. I’ll do whatever I can to help you find him.”

Marks picked up the bag. “Start with this.”

“Was it my mother’s?” Without thinking, Tory snatched it out of his hand, broke the seal, then closed her fingers over the earring.

She opened herself, wanting this last connection more than she’d realized. She shivered once, then dropped the earring onto the desk. “The mate’s in your pocket,” she said to Williams. “You took them off as you were driving into town, put this one in here.” Her eyes tracked up, stayed level. “I’m not required to put myself on display for you.”

“I apologize.” Williams stepped forward to pick up the earring. “I do know quite a bit about you, Miss Bodeen. I was interested in the work you did in New York. I’ve studied the Mansfield case.” She slipped the earring back into her pocket. “They should have listened to you.” She gave her partner a quiet look. “I intend to.”

“There’s nothing more I can tell you.” She got to her feet. “Faith, would you show them out please?”

“Sure.”

Williams took out a card, laid it on the desk, then followed Faith out of the storeroom. Minutes later Faith came back in, took out a fresh Coke, and settled down in the chair Marks had vacated.

“You could tell that just by touching that earring. You knew it was hers and all that just by touching it?”

“I have work to do.”

“Oh, get over yourself.” Faith took a long swig from the bottle. “I swear, I’ve never known anybody takes every damn thing so serious. What we ought to do is go buy ourselves some lottery tickets or run on up to the racetrack. Can you tell with horses? I don’t see why you couldn’t.”

“For God’s sake.”

“Well, why not? Why can’t you have some fun with it? It doesn’t have to be some dark, depressing weight. No, I’ve got it. Better than horses. We’ll go to Vegas and play blackjack. Jesus Christ, Tory, we’d break the bank in every casino.”