Key to Love (31 page)

Gaining more confidence, Elise eased herself into the kitchen and stood with her back flattened against the wall just inside the door. Her heart continued to thud wildly in her chest. Maybe she was just losing it, she thought. Maybe she was being silly. The place appeared empty. If an intruder had been in the house, he surely would have heard the arrival of two cars, the slamming of their doors, and the commotion outside. Surely, he would have left.

With a more purposeful stride, she started down the hallway toward the living room and bedrooms beyond and took three steps into the living room when she saw a flash of light and movement in her peripheral vision. She heard the clinking of metal before she felt the sharp, painful blow to the back of her head. The room around her faded to black as she crumpled and the floor came up to meet her.

****

Elise awoke to the fuzzy faces of four men peering down at her. She recognized the sterile, antiseptic smell of a hospital and could feel a throbbing pain at the side of her head.

“I didn’t die and go to heaven. Not if you’re all here with me,” she mumbled. “There’s no way St. Peter would allow four of you inside the pearly gates at the same time. It would be bedlam.”

“No, you’re at the hospital and this is a darned stupid way to visit me,” her father grumbled. “What were you thinking?”

“A little sympathy would be in order,” Elise said and followed her words with a painful moan. She felt her head begin to clear, and the images of the men’s faces became sharper.

Beside her, Lucas only sighed and ran his hand gently up and down her arm.

Fritz grunted. “You’re like a bumbling maniac when wild ideas simmer in that pea brain of yours. You could have been killed, Elise! Why did you go into the cottage without help?”

“Stop shouting.” She winced, eased herself slowly up, and fingered the bandage on the side of her head.

“You have a slight concussion and a few stitches,” Lucas said softly as he bent and kissed her forehead on the undamaged side of her face. “Hey, guys, cut her a break. She just woke up, for Pete’s sake.” He looked down at her lovingly. “How are you feeling?”

“Like someone hit me with a hammer? I’ll be okay, I think.”

“It was my grandmother’s tarnished old candlestick.”

“If you all don’t mind,” Nick interrupted, “I’d like a few minutes alone with Elise so I can get her statement and perhaps some information to help with our investigation. I’d like to go over some things while it’s still fresh in her mind and before they give her something strong to dull the pain.” He gestured to the door. “There’s a waiting room at the end of the hall, guys.”

As soon as the room cleared, Nick sighed. “You know, Elise, you’ve got yourself more deeply involved in this case than I would have liked.”

Elise took a sip of water from a glass on the stand beside her. “Which means you have more information?”

“Yes. The paint chips Lucas and J.B. took from Jack Morrison’s car match the paint we scraped off Mike Fisher’s car after the accident.” Nick ran his hand through his hair. “The problem is Jack Morrison wasn’t on the road the night of Mike Fisher’s death. He was seen drunk at Two Horses, got a ride home, and was there for the rest of the night, according to a neighbor. The bartender corroborates the story. Morrison picked up his car the next morning and it was already damaged.”

“Did you ask the bartender who took Morrison home?”

“Yeah, it was Meyer.” Nick paced in front of her bed. “Did you see or hear anything before you were hit?”

Elise shook her head. “No. Did Cindy see anything? It happened so fast. How did my attacker get out of the house?”

“Easy. Out the front door and onto the road below the cottage. Bess must have sensed someone was in the house and something was wrong because she started barking. By the time Cindy called and we arrived, the intruder was gone. We checked for tracks, but there were none. I’m sorry, Elise.”

Not any more than I am, Elise thought, as she fingered the bandage on her head again.

****

Elise greeted the news that she and her father would both be released from the hospital within twenty-four hours with joy and enthusiasm, despite a pounding headache. Lucas sent a Suburban to the hospital and instructed Fritz, Cindy, and J.B. to collect them and take them back to the farm. Fritz called it the mission to gather up the misfits, but he willingly showed up to see all the insurance and hospital paperwork for both of them was completed so they could be sprung.

If Elise was happy to be home, her joy paled in comparison to Lucas and Todd, who stuck to her like burrs on Bess. Lucas refused to let her work at her computer, and after the third reading of
The
Fox and the Hound
with Todd, demanded she take a rest in her room—alone.

But it didn’t take long for Todd and Bess to disregard Lucas’s rules and seek her out. With a silent, careful commando crawl, Todd inched his way into her room and onto the bed, where she was listening to her iPod with her eyes shut. She felt his little fingers remove one of the ear buds and his soft lips tickle her ear as he whispered, “Are you awake, Eeelise?”

Smiling, she opened her eyes, removed the other ear bud, and pulled the little boy toward her. He snuggled in close beside her and rested his head on her shoulder.

“I really missed you,” he said, twisting the cord of the earbud around his little finger.

“I missed you, too,” she admitted.

“Does your head hurt?”

“Not so much.” She rubbed the top of his head.

“We didn’t find Ranger. Cindy took me back to the cottage, and we looked through all the boxes. It’s not there.”

Elise’s heart hurt as he spoke. “I’m sorry, Todd. We’ll just have to get you something to replace it. I know what it’s like to lose something you really treasure. What do you think we can get you that would be as nice as your favorite beanbag dog?”

“A real dog?” The little boy bounced up, his face animated and his hands flying around like windmill blades. “A real dog the same color! Uncle Lucas says there’s a dog called a golden tree-er. It’s the same color.”

“Retriever. Re...triev...er,” she said slowly, smiling.

“Uncle Lucas said he’ll have to check with the SP-something or with someone who raises golden tree-ers to see if we can get one.”

“SPCA. Dogs are a lot of work,” Elise said. “Uncle Lucas will have to see if the doghouse is finished and if it’s the right size, although I don’t think he’ll want your puppy to stay outside. What would you name your dog?”

“Cracker,” he said with a wide grin. “It’s my favorite food.” He stopped a moment and chewed his lip. “But the house is all done, Elise. My dad even left the tool box inside it on a shelf over the door.”

Elise sat upright. “Say that again, Todd.”

“I’d name him Cracker.”

“No, about the tool box.”

“It’s inside the doghouse.”

Elise grabbed the little boy and hugged him close to her. “You are a really, really smart little boy,” she said. “I’m so proud of you. I think we need to go downstairs and get a box of those animal crackers to celebrate!”

“Do I have to eat the mean lions and tigers?” he asked.

“No,” she laughed and patted him on his hand. “You can eat any crackers you like, kiddo.”

****

Lucas, Nick, Elise, Fritz and Cindy sat at the kitchen table with Mike Fisher’s toolbox and bolt cutters in front of them. Close by on the floor, Todd knelt and clutched a small golden-colored beanbag dog while he brushed Bess, who was more than willing to lie there all day and submit to the boy’s ministrations. Lucas had found the beanbag dog with the tool box on a board in the rafters of the dog house.

“I think Bess needs to go outside,” Elise said to Cindy. “Can you take Todd and Bess out?” They traded an unspoken look that said the group needed some time for an adult conversation.

“Sure,” Cindy said. “Let’s go, Todd. We need to introduce your beanbag dog to the Springer farm. I also think we need to put a collar with a carabiner clip on Ranger so we can attach him to you permanently and be sure he never gets away again. I saw some ribbon in the sewing room we can use for a collar to get started.”

Fritz stood as well and checked his watch. “It’s time to pack up Dad and take him to his physical therapy session.”

As soon as they left, Lucas heaved a sigh. “I can’t believe it was in front of our faces the entire time.”

“If there’s really money and Mike’s papers in there, and not tools,” Nick said.

Lucas picked up the box, shook it, and looked at Nick with raised eyebrows as if to say, “Does it sound like metal tools?” Instead he said, “And here lies the problem, Nick. If we open this box, and there’s $100,000 inside, where do you stand?”

Nick looked at him, confused.

“I don’t want this reported back to the police until we nail Mike’s killer.” Lucas’s voice was low. Hard. Unyielding.

“Lucas, I’m under obligation to report it to headquarters.”

“Then take a hike, Nick. Walk out of here now.”

Nick flushed red. “What are you implying?”

“I’m implying there’s a leak somewhere in your department.” This time he didn’t try to hide his irritation. “And I don’t think we need to advertise drug money was found...if it’s really in this toolbox. It might stop whoever knows it exists from searching any longer, and maybe he is also the one who killed Mike. Mrs. Pedmo knew about the money, so did Jack Morrison, and it wouldn’t be a giant leap to think Meyer knew all the details as well. Hell, I thought undercover cops were supposed to be protected.”

Nick looked at him warily. “What do you want me to do?”

“Put a lid on it for a while,” Lucas admitted gruffly. “Let’s nail the killer.”

Nick heaved a sigh and picked up the bolt cutters. “This could get me in a lot of trouble with the department. Whatever is in here, you have twenty-four hours before I say anything about this box being found, agreed?”

“Agreed,” Lucas and Elise said in unison.

Chapter Twenty-Two

It was just as Elise had hoped. She sat at the table with Lucas beside her and surveyed the contents of the toolbox spread out on the kitchen table: valuable papers, insurance policies, Todd’s health records, a will, banking information, and $50,000 of police money with a note stating the remaining $50,000 was in a Scranton bank in a safe deposit box. She peered at Lucas beside her. The only emotion she saw was one of relief as he stared at all the paper laid out before them. “This is good news, Lucas. Your brother’s name is finally cleared.” She patted him on the back. “I wonder why he separated the money.”

Nick, who had just phoned the bank to verify the whereabouts of the other $50,000, put his phone back in his pocket. “It’s at the bank, all right. Agents often separate large amounts of money. They can have easy access to it and be assured it won’t walk away. There are a lot of sticky fingers when working undercover. A cop can’t be shaken down for any more money during a deal other than what’s on them, either.” He looked at Lucas with a serious expression. “I never doubted Mike Fisher was anything but an honest, clean cop.”

Lucas nodded. “Twenty-four hours, right?”

“You have twenty-four hours, correct,” Nick replied. After a perusal of the papers, he excused himself to take a shift for someone at the barracks who had called in sick.

Elise sat silently for a few minutes, thinking Nick had been right. The toolbox had been hidden in a conspicuous place, just waiting for discovery. How many times had they walked past the doghouse? The only reason Mike hid Todd’s scruffy beanbag dog with the toolbox was because he knew his precocious son would hound them until they looked harder and located it.

Elise unfolded the will and scanned it. It gave all of Mike’s belongings to Lucas, willed all of his money and property to him, and gave him legal guardianship of Todd.

“Well, it should be pretty clear to everyone Todd is now your child to raise,” Elise said and watched Lucas’s sober face light up like a cookie at Eat ’N Park.

“Yes, all I need is one more thing,” he said, and took her hand, caressing the top of it. There was a devilish look on his face.

She stared at those smoke-colored Fisher eyes. “What?”

“You, of course. We’re two lonely men in desperate need of a very special person to make us two very happy men.”

“Oh, Lucas, things are so complica—” she said when the ringing of the phone interrupted her. She picked it up to hear Chuck Sanders’ voice on the other end.

“Ready to come back to work?” he asked.

“Well, hello to you, too, Chuck. And no, not yet. Although I hardly think you called to ask that question.” By the tone of his voice, she knew something was not quite right.

“Actually, yes. It looks like Mort Levinson is trying to cut us out of the five-hotel deal. I understand he wants only you as the lead architect on his projects.”

A set of alarm bells started ringing in her head. “He’ll change his mind once we get the first building started, and he sees all the work that needs to be done.”

“Maybe, but with Lucas giving him a hefty sum as an investor, I’m guessing it won’t happen, at least with the Wilkes-Barre endeavor.”

“Surely you’re kidding?” The warning bells pealed even louder in her head. She rubbed the back of her neck, feeling tension starting to rise between her shoulder blades.