How Secrets Die (18 page)

“No, and neither the doctor nor his doting mother will allow me to question him. But I did have a chance to flash the photo in front of him. He looked terrified. Then he faked a faint so I couldn't press him. Still, it's something.”

Kate nodded. “It certainly shows how he feels about the man, if nothing else.”

“And you can take a lesson from his fear. Be aware. If you spot Bolt, don't try to speak to him. Just give him a wide berth and call me. Here, I'll send the photo to your cell phone.”

He clicked to send the image on to her.

“Don't worry. I won't forget that face. And I won't try to be a hero, I promise.” Her smile seemed distracted.

“What is it?” It was his turn to read her expression.

“I know you want to stop the drug traffic. But are you forgetting about the fact that Bart didn't tell you the whole story about Jason's departure that last day?”

“Not forgetting, no.” His reply was cautious. “I can pursue it, but I know pretty much what he'll say—that he didn't want to blacken Jason's reputation when he was dead. And Lina would agree. Don't forget, as much as she does to keep that place going, she's not a partner. She can be fired.”

“They were trying to protect themselves,” she snapped. His caution always seemed to infuriate her, but he wasn't going to go off half-cocked and either ruin a possible case or alienate his neighbors.

“Maybe so, but that's nothing I can prove. And it's not illegal, even so.”

“Lying to the police...” she began.

He put his hand over hers where it lay between them on the bench and felt the instant connection. “I don't think I can make a case out of that, Kate. Not without more.”

“And what if I have more?” Her golden-brown eyes held a challenge.

“Then I want to hear it,” he said instantly. “Or you'll be the one who's not cooperating with police, remember?” he added, tone light.

Her face relaxed in a smile. “I'm a reporter. I could claim I didn't have to reveal my source, but I intend to tell you.” She glanced down at their clasped hands. “I heard from a business reporter friend of mine. I'd asked him to dig up anything he could about Laurel Ridge Financial Group.”

Mac couldn't imagine that there'd be anything derogatory, but he nodded.

“According to his sources, the firm had a solid reputation up until the last couple of years. Since then, rumors have been circulating. Very vague ones, apparently, but he says they hint at either incompetence or wrongdoing.”

Mac frowned, assessing her words. “It's a straw in the wind, but not much to go on.”

“I guess not,” she admitted. “But on the strength of it, he said if I had anything to invest, it shouldn't be there.” Kate gave him a questioning look. “You're going to tell me it's not enough to base an investigation on.”

“You already know that. But...” He hesitated, trying to work his way through the maze of possibilities. “You think that if Jason happened on to some information that would expose the problem, someone might have wanted him out of the firm.”

“Or out of the way.” Now it was her turn to pause. “I keep thinking about what Mr. Sheldon said. That something was not Jason's fault.”

Mac came to a reluctant conclusion. “There's only one thing I can do at this point. Talk to both Bart and Lina. Push them on the fact that they didn't tell me what they should have in the wake of Jason's death.”

“That's all?” Kate pulled her hand free, turning to face him. “What about the rumors about the company? What about what Sheldon said? You can't just give them an easy out.”

Keeping his temper under control had become a lot harder since Kate's arrival in Laurel Ridge. “I'm not. But I'm also not accusing them of financial malfeasance on the basis of rumors. Or giving away everything I know, just in case one or both of them actually has been cooking the books.”

“Still protecting your town?” There was a bite to her voice.

“I'm doing my job the best way I know. Don't make it harder by charging in and stirring things up before I have a chance to make some private inquiries of my own.”

Kate's jaw hardened. Her eyes looked stormy. But finally she jerked a nod. Then she got up, gathered her belongings, and strode off without another word.

Mac watched her go, torn between his longing to help her and his determination not to make a misstep that might keep him from ever learning the truth. She thought he was too cautious. Well, he'd just have to live with that, wouldn't he?

* * *

K
ATE
HEADED
INTO
the bookshop, trying to ensure that she had a pleasant expression on her face. They were meeting in the bookshop because Emily already had a cozy corner with some comfortable chairs for reading or for the book club she hoped to start.

Maybe she'd been a bit unreasonable. Mac was doing his job, after all. But the drive inside her to know the truth grew stronger every day. How would she bear it if she never knew?

“Coffee and crullers,” Allison exclaimed as she opened the box and distributed crullers and napkins. “If I'm not careful, I'll be too big for my wedding dress.”

“As busy as you are, I'm sure you run off the calories,” Emily said, helping herself to the coffee with cream. “Thanks so much for picking up the order, Kate.” She beamed at the three of them. “It's so nice of you young things to make me feel part of the group.”

“
Ach
, Emily, you're only as old as your heart feels, and you'll always be young at heart.” Sarah reached across to pat her hand.

“Sarah has a saying for every occasion,” Allison said. “Now, let's get down to the serious stuff. Is there any news about who attacked Larry in the cottage?”

Kate stopped to consider before she spoke, knowing that some things were better not broadcasted. On the other hand, some were. “Mac has a photo of the man he thinks might have been involved. I haven't ever seen him, but he's hoping it will lead him to the man.” She brought the photo up on her phone and passed it to Emily. “Let Mac know if you spot him in Laurel Ridge.”

Emily took one look and shuddered. “He looks like a hoodlum if ever I saw one.”

Allison's lips twitched a little, and Kate suspected she was thinking it was very unlikely Emily had ever seen what she called a hoodlum. She took the phone.

“A few too many tattoos, I'd say. If I'd seen him in Laurel Ridge, I'd remember.”

Sarah took it in her turn and studied the face with serious intention. It seemed unlikely that the Amish woman would have run across someone like Bolt, but...

“You know, I think I've seen him somewhere,” Sarah said, her forehead puckering. “I just can't think where.”

“I doubt he was at the last barn-raising,” Allison teased. “Where have you been hanging out to see a character like that?”

Sarah shook her head, ignoring Allison's teasing question. “No, I'm not sure. But it will come to me.” She handed the phone back to Kate.

“Well, wherever he is, Mac won't give up until he locates him,” Allison said. “I've never known anyone with greater determination.”

“He certainly has a strong sense of responsibility to this town.” Kate made an effort not to let the words sound critical.

“You should have known him when he was young,” Sarah said. “He was a mischief-maker if ever there was one. He always had to test the rules, and he just grinned when he got caught.”

“Nick says the military really sobered him up,” Allison said.

She hadn't realized Mac had been in the military, but she should have guessed it. “What service was he in?”

“Marines. He served in Iraq and Afghanistan. Nick says whatever he experienced there made him more protective. Gave him a deep sense of duty.”

Kate nodded. She'd known people for whom serving had had that effect. Some returning vets could shake off their experiences, but she'd guess Mac was not one who could.

“I've got it,” Sarah said suddenly. “I know where I saw him—the man in the picture, I mean.”

“Are you sure? Where?” Allison grabbed her partner's arm.

“It was that day I dropped off the order for Melody Andrews on my way home from work. Remember? What day was it? I can look in the book...”

“No need,” Allison said. “I remember. It was the day Larry was attacked.”

For a moment they all stared at each other. Kate recovered her senses first. “This Melody Andrews—where does she live? And what time was it?”

“That's just it. She lives in the same block as Larry Foust and his mother. And it would have been after five when Sarah was there. We need to tell Mac.” Allison turned to Sarah. “You're sure? What was he doing?”

“Just...just walking toward the Foust place,” Sarah said, but her cheeks grew pink.

Allison's eyes snapped. “He said something offensive to you, didn't he?”

Sarah shrugged. “It doesn't matter. I've forgotten it already.”

“Wish I'd been there. I'd have given him something for his smart mouth.” Allison's hands tightened into fists, and she looked ready to take on all comers.

“He may live to regret it,” Kate reminded her. “He called attention to himself. And Sarah seeing him there ties him to Larry within hours of the attack.”

Her mind was spinning. Bolt might have been on his way to meet Larry, with the intent of breaking into the cottage. Or he might have followed him there. Either way, it was a link.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

K
ATE
SLIT
OPEN
the newly arrived box of books that Emily had asked her to unpack. The storeroom at Blackburn House seemed to be divided into sections—unmarked, but defined nonetheless. In one corner, boxes of fabrics were stacked on shelves, obviously belonging to the quilt shop. In another area, bins held various kinds of hardware, most likely from the cabinetry business.

Emily claimed to have been sorting out the mass of old stock left by the previous owner of the bookstore, but judging by the number of boxes left in her area, she hadn't been making much progress.

The relatively mindless choice of unpacking was probably all Kate was suited for at the moment. Her thoughts skipped from one issue to another like a water bug skittering on a pond.

Mac had speculated as to what might have happened if Jason had threatened to expose a dealer but he'd insisted it was just that, speculation. With no physical evidence, convicting anyone of killing Jason would be impossible, unless someone talked. With the injection of Ax Bolt into the picture, that was becoming more and more likely.

Her initial reaction to the possibility that Jason had been murdered had been, she was ashamed to admit, a sense of relief that she hadn't been responsible. She'd come here wanting someone, anyone else to blame, so she didn't have to blame herself. But she'd known, those moments at the cemetery, that there was no escaping her own responsibility even if someone else was involved in Jason's death.

The police report had indicated that there were no marks of violence on Jason. So how could someone like Bolt have persuaded him to take anything?

Almost against her will, Kate found herself picturing the scene. If he'd been drugged without his knowledge, it could have been done. Someone—Bolt, perhaps—getting him to the cemetery. Leaning him against the stone, pouring the rest of the alcohol and drugs down his throat.

Jason would have been helpless, alone in the dark, perhaps able to know what was happening to him, crying out in his mind for her...

Kate bit her lip, hard, forcing the image out of her head. Reliving his death made her weak when she had to be strong.

The storeroom door creaked open, setting her nerves jumping. Gripping a heavy hardback in one hand, she straightened. Then she dropped it into the box at the sight of Mac's tall form.

“You talked to Sarah?” She skirted the box she'd been working on and moved toward him.

“Hello to you, too.” Mac had a warm smile for her before turning serious. “Yes, I heard what Sarah had to say.”

“And?”

“And it goes a long way to suggesting Bolt's involvement with Larry.”

She nodded. “That's what I thought. He could have followed Larry to the cottage. Or they might have gone together and then had a falling-out over something.”

“Bolt might have thought Larry was a more of a handicap than an asset.” Mac leaned against a stack of boxes. “I'd never get the DA to cooperate in opening your brother's case again, but with the possibility of a prosecution in a current case, he's on board. I talked to the drug task force people from the state police. They have assets I can only dream of. With them looking for Bolt, it's only a matter of time.”

“Unless he's left the area altogether,” she said. “I would.”

He studied her face for a moment. “I'd feel easier in my mind if I knew he wasn't around to chase after you.”

“I'm not afraid.”

At his skeptical gaze, she shrugged. “All right. Only a fool wouldn't be afraid of someone who killed so readily. But if Bolt attacked Larry, he certainly wouldn't hang around.”

“Be careful anyway,” Mac said. He straightened. “Speaking of hanging around, as much as I'd like to hang around here, I'm on my way to have a chat with Bart about a little matter of not telling the police the whole story.”

“I was afraid you'd forget that, now that Bolt was occupying your attention.”

“I'm not ignoring any possibilities. That's my job.”

That oversize sense of responsibility of his came to the fore again. Kate thought about what Sarah and Allison had said about his service in the military. About how it had changed him.

Mac raised an eyebrow. “What? You're looking at me as if you haven't seen me before.”

“Not that. But Allison mentioned that you'd been in the military, and I realized I should have known that from the beginning.”

“Carry the marks of it, do I? Well, maybe so. Being a marine affects a person for life.”

“Why did you join up? Patriotism?”

“Nothing so noble, I'm afraid.” He shrugged. “I was a restless kid, not willing to settle down in Laurel Ridge for the rest of my life. I wanted adventure.”

“At a guess, I'd say you found it.”

“Yes.” He sobered, and his eyes darkened with pain so intense that it seemed to reach out and grab her heart. She longed to reach out to comfort him, but she wasn't sure it would be welcome.

He turned away, and the opportunity, if it had existed, vanished. “I'd best get going. By the way, I think I've found the right gamer to help us interpret Jason's diary. I'll bring her over to the cottage later if that's okay.”

“She?” Kate was sure she showed her surprise. “Somehow I was expecting a teenage boy.”

He grinned. “Don't be sexist, Kate.”

Before she could respond, he'd gone out, closing the door behind him.

* * *

M
AC
'
S
SMILE
FADED
rapidly as he headed up the stairs to the second floor offices. Bart was always a bit tricky to talk with, especially when it was something he didn't want to hear. He got huffy, stood on his dignity and generally made a nuisance of himself on every town committee he'd ever served with.

With Russ Sheldon's retirement, Bart was the power running Laurel Ridge Financial Group, and the opinions Kate had passed on from her reporter friend weren't reassuring. A lot of people in town had their investments with the firm, and any hint that it might be unstable would rock them to the core.

Not his dad and mother, though. Dad always joked that he was worth nothing more than the cabinetry business and the farm, and that if he ever reached the point that he had any left over, he'd take Mom on a trip around the world. Since his mother had no desire to go anywhere, that didn't seem likely to happen.

Too soon he'd reached the door. He paused, remembering that first day when he'd seen Kate's face reflected in the glass window of the real estate business next door. A lot had changed since then—and he wasn't sure he was ready for some of those changes. He liked his life the way it was, maintaining a careful balance between the grief and guilt of the past and the duties of the present. Kate made him feel as if there was something missing.

Nikki had spotted him standing outside the door and was clearly wondering what he was doing. Shoving his mind back into gear, he went in.

“Hi, Chief Whiting.” She closed the top drawer of her desk on the magazine she'd been reading and gave him her best receptionist smile. “What can I do for you?”

That reminded him that he ought to hear Nikki's account of what had happened to Jason that last day. But not here if he wanted her to be frank.

“I'd like to see Bart if he's not busy. I don't want to interrupt him if he's with a client.”

“No, not a person in all morning.” She gave him a conspiratorial grin as she pressed a button on the phone. “He's probably practicing his putting. He has one of those—” She cut off to turn her attention to the phone. “Chief Whiting is here to see you, Mr. Gordon.”

She nodded to Mac, jerking her head toward the door. “You can go right in.”

Mac suppressed a smile as he headed for the door. He could imagine Bart's reaction if he heard Nikki talking about his putting practice. Still, Laurel Ridge didn't have that many young women looking for receptionist jobs. The cream of every high school class went on to college, and many of them just kept on going afterward. On to bigger things, if not necessarily better.

Bart opened the door before he reached it, extending a hand with his professional smile. “I didn't expect to see you, Mac. I thought you'd be too busy tracking down drug dealers.”

“What makes you think that?” He ought to know. Rumors spread faster than a cold in the head.

“Talk.” Bart spread his hands expressively. “It's all over town that Larry Foust was attacked because of his involvement in drugs.”

“I'd be careful about rumors. Ethel might sue if she heard.”

Bart was shaking his head as he led the way to the chairs on either side of the large mahogany desk. Other than the computer, the desk surface was completely clear.

Mac mentally contrasted it with his battered and scarred desk, piled high with the steadily increasing flow of forms to be filled out. Either Bart was extremely efficient, or he kept his work confined to the computer. Somehow Mac had never found that possible.

“If Ethel hadn't spoiled that boy so thoroughly, he might have amounted to something.” Bart spoke with the confidence of one who had no children. “Of course the other question in everyone's mind is, what was Larry doing in the Beaumont woman's cottage at that hour of the night?”

“The police would like an answer to that one, as well. Since Ms. Beaumont was out that evening, he didn't come to see her.”

Bart's head came up alertly. “Was anything missing?”

“I'm afraid I can't divulge matters pertaining to an ongoing investigation.” Not only was that true, it also allowed him to keep a few secrets, at least.

Had the person who'd deleted Jason's file made a copy of it first? And if so, what might it tell him that it hadn't told Kate?

“No, no, of course not.” Bart leaned back in his leather chair. “Well, tell me what I can do for you.”

Mac made a point of getting out his notebook and pen. “A few little things have come up in regard to the death of Jason Reilley. You'll understand that recent events have made it necessary to take another look at the case.”

“I don't understand anything of the kind.” Bart sat upright in a hurry. “Just because that Beaumont woman has been talking wildly...”

“More to the point is where Jason got the drugs that ended his life.” And if Bart didn't stop referring to Kate as
that Beaumont woman
, Mac wouldn't be answerable for the consequences.

Bart seemed to swallow his defensiveness. “Well, of course you want to know that, but I thought you'd looked into it thoroughly at the time.”

“That's where Ms. Beaumont's presence has been very helpful. She has access to a bit more information than we did about her brother's life here.” He watched a wary look slide across Bart's face.

“Is Larry Foust somehow involved in that?” Bart waved his hand. “Never mind. I'm sure you can't divulge that information.”

“Thank you for understanding.” So far, this conversation had been relatively amicable, but it was about to get rocky. “Now, according to my notes at the time, you said that nothing unusual had happened at work that might have upset Reilley. But you recently admitted that he'd been fired. Why was he fired?”

“I don't feel comfortable discussing personnel matters. That's private. You understand.” Bart was outwardly calm, but his fingers twitched a little. As if becoming aware of that, he pressed his hand firmly against the desktop.

Mac leaned forward into Bart's space. “That won't do, not when we're looking into what might be a capital crime. If what you say has no bearing on the case, I'll be happy to forget it, but I have to know.”

He watched in fascination as Bart's face paled and then grew red. Was he going to try to bluff it out?

“You can't force me to talk to you about company business.”

“No one is requesting access to your client files.” Although he'd love to know what a private audit might show. How reliable was that source of Kate's? “We can either have a quiet discussion about it here in the privacy of your office, or I'll have to ask you to come in and make a formal statement.”

Bart swallowed visibly and seemed to do some fierce concentrating. “Well, I suppose if you must know, the truth of it is that we had to let the boy go for...well, for laxity in his work. A firm like ours can't tolerate any laxity, you know.”

“Odd, wasn't it, that it took the better part of three months for this laxity to show up?” He didn't ease off on the intensity of his stare.

Bart moved restlessly in his chair, glancing around as if for inspiration. “His internship would have been ending in a few weeks anyway, so it wasn't a big deal. Certainly not something he'd kill himself over.”

“Why?” Mac shot the word at him, tired of dancing around the issue.

“It seemed there were some issues relating to the records of some accounts.” Bart picked his way carefully. “I'm not accusing Reilley of any malfeasance, you understand. We've determined that no funds were missing, but we have to be able to rely on the accounts being kept accurately.”

“So you fired him because he made a mistake in accounting, in other words.”

Bart glared at him. “Not just a simple mistake. It took days to go back through all the records and make sure they were correct. We just can't have that sort of thing. Laurel Ridge Financial Group has always had a spotless reputation.”

Mac shifted ground. “How did Reilley react when you accused him?”

“He denied doing it, of course. What else would you expect?” Bart's color deepened dangerously. “I should never have taken a chance on someone like him. I let myself be persuaded as a favor to a friend, and look what happened. And now you're raking it all up again.”