Dead Air (12 page)

G
abby had every right to be angry. And Clark needed to do whatever it took to make it up to her. But he was scared, scared that his deceit had cost his chance for a relationship. It surprised him to admit he was ready for a romantic entanglement. But Gabby was special.

God, give me the strength and wisdom to make this up to her
.

She moved across the parking lot.

“I want to talk to you for a minute.”

Gabby glared at him. The morning sun glistened overhead. “Look, I’ve had a long shift and I’m ready to get home.”

“Please.”

Something made her stop. “What is it, Clark?”

He covered the distance between them, his heart racing. “I’m sorry I didn’t mention the threats. The ones from Philly or the one I got here.”

“What kind of threats were they?”

“Look, why don’t we go to Ms. Minnie’s and have breakfast? I’ll tell you everything.”

She cocked her head and studied him.

Lord, please encourage her to give me a chance.

“Please, Gabby. I promise I wasn’t trying to keep anything from you.”

She hesitated, then her shoulders slumped free of their defensive stance. “Fine. I’ll follow you there.”

In less than ten minutes, they were seated at the back corner of the diner and their breakfast orders taken.

Now he had to bare his soul. Would she rip his heart apart?

“Okay, tell me.”

“I wrote a piece about the corruption in Pennsylvania’s government.”

“I know.”

He hitched a brow. “You know?”

Heat crept up the back of her neck. “Amazing what you can find out on the Internet.”

“Then you know what I wrote caused several people to resign.”

“Yeah.”

Ms. Minnie delivered their breakfasts and quickly left to attend to the other patrons. Gabby offered up grace, then she waited on Clark to continue.

“Everything I wrote was factual. One hundred percent. But the politicians’ supporters didn’t like me running the story.” He took a bite of an omelet.

“I imagine not. But if it was the truth—”

“It was, but I wouldn’t reveal my sources. So even my friends badgered me. Called me a liar. A mudslinger. Worse.”

The pain on his face caused sympathy to edge her heart. She nibbled on her toast. “And they threatened you?”

He ran a hand over his face. “We never knew who threatened me. The police investigated, per se, but really didn’t follow up until after everyone implicated admitted what I’d written was true. Then they tried to work the case, but it was too late.”

“What were the threats? Could they be related to what’s happening here?”

“I really don’t think so, Gabby. The threats were calls and letters to me, telling me if I knew what was good for me, I’d leave town.” He took a quick sip of coffee. “They stopped after everyone resigned. And the threat from when my house was trashed…it just said that I had to leave or I wouldn’t be the only one to get hurt. I suspected that last part referred to you—and it looks like the sheriff agrees—but I didn’t want to worry you since I couldn’t be sure.”

He looked so remorseful. Her heart really ached for him. “I understand. I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions. Seems I’m doing that a lot lately.”

“No harm, no foul.” He lifted his coffee mug. “So, how was your shift?”

She told him about the caller and McGruder’s lack of concern. Everything about his demeanor changed.

“You should’ve called me.”

She shook her head. “Nothing you could do. McGruder couldn’t do anything. But we’re missing something, Clark.”

He frowned at the window. Gabby followed his stare into the parking lot.

A staggering figure wove along the middle of Shannon Street. In the morning glare, drivers would be unable to see him.

Gabby tossed a couple of bills on the table while Clark slid out of the booth. Together, they ran toward the swaying figure. “Sir, are you okay?” Gabby hollered, just as the wind kicked in her direction.

The overpowering stench of liquor nearly made her gag, but she continued toward the inebriated man.

Gabby leaned forward, peering into his face. “Sam? Sam Wood?”

The man’s head jerked.

“Oh, Mr. Sam. What have you done?” She crossed to the man’s other side. “It’s me, Gabby Rogillio.” Her arm wove around his waist, and she tucked his arm over her shoulder.

Clark mimicked her movements until they led the drunken man toward her rental.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Gabby. I just had a few beers to ease my pain,” Sam mumbled, filling the air with his foul stench.

“Whew, Mr. Sam, you smell like a brewery. Beer this early in the morning?”

Clark shifted to take the older man’s weight while Gabby struggled to open the rental’s back door.

Gabby helped secure Mr. Sam in the backseat before slipping behind the driver’s wheel. She whispered to Clark, “I’ve never seen Mr. Sam drink at all.”

Clark shrugged. “I wonder what he’s doing in the middle of the road, three sheets to the wind, this early in the morning.”

“Probably been out all night.” Gabby glanced into her rearview mirror. “Mr. Sam. Mr. Sam, can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“So senseless. Broke my heart.” The man began to sob, his bald spot prominent in the reflection of the dashboard lights. “We were so in
looovve
.”

Clark looked to Gabby. “What’s he talking about?”

“Haven’t a clue.” She turned the rental into his driveway. “Here we are.”

After the vehicle rolled to a stop, Gabby and Clark fought to get Sam from the backseat and up the stairs. His steps faltered several times.

“Mr. Sam, where’s your house key?”

“Not locked,” he muffled as he swayed.

Gabby braced against the doorjamb for support and turned the knob. Sure enough, it opened. Yet another nice thing about living in a small town—most people didn’t feel the need to lock their
doors, they trusted their neighbors. She helped Clark drag Mr. Sam into the house.

“It’s sad. That good-for-nothing Robert Ellison. All his fault,” Sam said as they lowered him to the couch.

Gabby’s heart skipped a beat. “What’s that about Robert Ellison?” Maybe she could finally get to the root of Sam’s grudge against Robert.

Sam looked at her, his wrinkled face marred with sadness. The corners of his dark eyes drooped to meet the crow’s feet. “He stole Amber from me. And now he’s given her this latest misery. The dirty rat.”

“What are you saying, Mr. Sam?” She lowered herself to the chair across from the couch. “You and Amber were once an item?” She’d never heard of it.

He nodded. “All through high school. She was my girl, Ms. Gabby. We was so in love.” Liquor had thickened his tongue.

She laid a hand on his. “I didn’t know. What happened?”

“We planned to get married soon as we graduated. We’d already been busy playing house, if you catch my drift.” Sam waggled his gray, bushy eyebrows. “But then, at the end of our senior year, right after graduation, Amber up and disappeared.” Fat tears fell from his eyes.

Gabby cleared her throat. “Where’d she go?”

Sam pawed at the tears on his cheeks. “To visit relatives over in Louisiana. Someplace down in Calcasieu Parish—Cajun country. She was gone a whole year.”

“But she came back…” Gabby patted his hand.

“When she did, she was married to that uppity Robert Ellison.”

Clark squatted in front of Sam. “Did she give you any reason? Any kind of explanation?”

Swaying, Sam leaned back against the couch. “Never said a
single thing. Wouldn’t even talk to me.” His voice lowered, his words trailed off. “That…sorry son of a…”

Sam didn’t finish his statement. Didn’t even move.

“Mr. Sam?” Gabby shook the man’s hand.

A loud snore erupted from Sam, followed by a snort.

Clark stood. “He’s passed out. He won’t tell us anything else.”

“I guess not.” She headed to the door. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Did you know? About him and Amber and Robert, I mean?” Clark paused by the front door.

“I’ve lived in Mystique all my life and never heard that story.” Gabby shrugged as she crossed the front porch.

She stared at the passed-out Sam Wood. Without meaning to, the man had just provided himself with a motive for setting up Robert. But did he have anything against Howard? She pulled the door closed and followed Clark down the stairs.

Gabby drove Clark back to the diner. “I can’t process anything more until I get some sleep.”

He smiled. “Go home and get some rest. I’ll talk to you on your shift.”

She returned the grin. “Better watch out. I don’t know how my new boss feels about employee fraternization.”

Leaning over the car’s console, Clark whispered, “I think I can handle him.”

And then he wrapped his hand in her hair and drew her close. Closer. Dipped his head and pressed his lips against hers.

Soft at first. Then harder. More demanding.

Her head spun. She jerked back, breathless.

He chuckled. “Sweet dreams, Gabby.” Clark opened the door and was gone.

Leaving Gabby confused and her adrenaline racing.

Clark pulled into Aunt Beulah’s driveway as night settled securely over Mystique. With all the chaos lately, he hadn’t been visiting as much as he should. Something about his great-aunt always soothed him, and he needed some calm right now.

She opened the screen door before he even cleared the stairs. “What’s buggin’ you, boy?” She tightened the belt of her robe.

Was his distress so plain to see? He planted a kiss on his aunt’s cheek and followed her into the house. “I didn’t check the time, Aunt Beulah. Were you in bed?”

She waved him into the living room. “Of course not. I’m old, but not bedridden. I always watch the late news.” Aunt Beulah plopped into her worn recliner. “What’s givin’ you fits?”

“My life.” Clark lowered himself to the couch.

She chuckled. “What else is new, boy? Would you care to be more specific?”

“So much is happening so fast.”

“What’s that?”

“All the hoopla with the station that I now own. My brake lines being cut. My house being trashed.”

She removed her glasses and wiped them on the hem of her tired robe, then shoved them back over the bridge of her nose. “Sounds like someone don’t like you much, son.”

“I guess not. But now an employee is receiving threats, too. So it’s not just me.”

“Did you tell Sheriff McGruder? It’s his job to protect the citizens of this town, not your responsibility. Employees are just that—employees.” She peered at him over the rim of her glasses.

He fought the urge to fidget. His aunt always had been able to cut through all the layers to hit the core of a problem. “Well, she’s…well…”

“Gabby.” Aunt Beulah nodded.

“Yes, but how’d—”

“I’m old, not blind, boy.” She chuckled. “Gabby’s got a right mind of her own, that girl surely does.”

Wasn’t that the truth? “But someone’s threatening her now, too.”

“Tragedies can bring out the worst in people. Just like it has for poor Sam Wood. From what I heard today, his horns are showing since Robert’s arrest.”

“Gabby and I just saw him, dead drunk, crying about how Robert stole Amber from him.”

“Can’t say as I blame him for holding a grudge, considering how things went back then.”

Clark’s heart shifted into a higher gear. “What do you mean?”

Aunt Beulah leaned her head against the recliner. “Reckon I should just tell you what we all heard back then, what we all believed to be true.”

Remaining silent, Clark willed his heart to stop thudding too loudly in his head so he could hear his aunt’s words.

“Where to start?” She waved a hand. “No matter. The truth is that Sam Wood was devastated when Amber left town. Never seen a man so down and out.” Aunt Beulah glanced out the window, as if losing focus. “Everyone expected them to marry someday, but instead she ended things before leaving town. Rumor had it that Amber had found out she was pregnant by Sam and left to have the baby. Sure enough, she came back almost twelve months later.”

Clark couldn’t let his aunt finish. “Did she? Have a baby, I mean?”

Thunder rumbled in the distance. Lightning speared the sky. Aunt Beulah glanced to the heavens, then back at Clark. “No one knows for certain, child, except Amber herself. Oh, nobody ever asked her, and none of us ever breathed a word of our suspicions to poor Sam. Bless his heart, he was torn up enough as it was.”

She sighed. “So that’s the sad story, child. Now, I don’t know for certain the truth, but it sure made sense of her long departure.”

She stared at Clark. “You take that information, son, and you be careful with it.”

“Thank you, Aunt Beulah. I really appreciate it.”

“You do what’s right, and nothing more, you hear?”

Brring!

Clark grabbed his cell phone from his hip. “Just a minute.” He didn’t recognize the number on the caller ID, but it was local. “Hello.”

“Mr. McKay?”

“Yes.”

“This is Walter with Mystique Security.” The company Clark had hired for security at KLUV this afternoon.

“Yes?”

“I noticed a white Lincoln Town Car parked in the lot. Didn’t think much about it, until I made my second pass and saw a figure inside. I headed that direction, and it left.”

Someone in the parking lot, at night, when Gabby was at the station by herself…“Did the person ever get out?” Clark stood, fishing out his keys.

“Not that I know. Like I said, as soon as they saw me, they took outta here. I got a partial on the license plate.”

“Just watch for it and call the police if it returns. I’m on my way now.”

“Yes, sir.”

Clark reattached the cell to his hip clip. “Sorry I have to run off, Aunt Beulah, but there’s something strange going on around KLUV.”

“I understand. Go on and take care of your business, boy.”

He started his car and backed out of the driveway as the rain began to fall. Who’d been nosing around the station? Was the killer back, looking for another target?

And Gabby was all alone at the station.