Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar (25 page)
Read Miranda Vaughn Mystery 01.00 - Chasing the Dollar Online
Authors: Ellie Ashe
My breath escaped in a rush of relief. No trial meant not having to publicly relive my betrayal by my former fiancé, the chaos of Macau, and the disaster that followed in
Belize. It meant that I could move forward and stop living in the past.
I looked up at Jake.
"Really?"
He nodded and his lips quirked up.
"Yeah, really. He's looking at a forty-year sentence, but that means he could possibly get out of prison when he's a very old man. Otherwise, he was facing at least life in prison, if not the death penalty."
I tried to wrap my mind around that. For three months, I
'd been focused on some unknown date in the future when I'd have to return to the courtroom. Now the future was wide open.
"
Is he pleading guilty to everything?"
Jake shook his head.
"No, they're dropping one murder charge. Without Bill's body, that would have been a difficult case to prove. But he'll plead guilty to the money laundering and attempted murder counts, and to the murder of his fiancée."
I let the news sink in.
"Wow, so that's it? The case is over?"
Jake nodded.
"Yes, it's done. They might ask you to give a statement at sentencing, but that's up to you."
I should have been relieved, but it almost seemed too good to be true. It was eerily similar to what I
'd felt when the jury found me not guilty, like teetering on the edge of a cliff. I was free to go.
To go where?
I had a new job, new friends, and now, nothing tying me to my old life.
"
Looks like you're getting back on your feet," Jake said. He looked down at my hand, still wrapped in his. "Buying the cabin, will that help give you your old life back?"
I shook my head.
"I don't want it back. It was all lies."
"
Not all of it," he said gently and raised his eyes to mine.
"
Yeah, the true parts stayed around," I said, thinking of Aunt Marie, Rob, and Sarah.
"
Are you going to look for a job in finance again?" he asked.
I shook my head and shrugged.
"No, it appears that I'm still not considered a good employment risk."
"
You helped bring down a world-wide money laundering scheme."
"
The government hasn't exactly touted my role in that," I said. Donna Grayson hadn't so much as breathed my name in public. While Dylan's lawyers were aware of my statements, there had been no public exoneration for me. Jake had gotten more credit than I had, at least in the newspapers. Not that I was upset at that. He took the bullet. He got to be the hero.
"
Donna should correct that," Jake said, releasing my hand and leaning forward to rest his arms on his knees.
I shrugged again.
"I don't seem to care as much anymore. I don't want to go back to work at Patterson or one of the other banks."
A long silence followed, and the only sound was the water dripping off the roof onto the deck.
"You were gone when I woke up," Jake said.
"
Well, you were recovering from surgery, and I had to get back to California," I said, shifting on the cold wooden slats and focusing on the trees to avoid looking at him.
"
But I didn't get a chance to thank you," he said.
I turned and looked at him.
"Thank me? For what?"
"
From what I heard, you saved my life by not taking us to the airport."
I shrugged.
"I got you shot in the first place, so it doesn't seem proper to take credit for getting you to a hospital."
He gave me that smile I
'd been missing, and my stomach clenched.
"
That wasn't your fault," he said. "I was starting to think you were avoiding me."
"
I had my orders to avoid you," I said. "Ms. Grayson said not to talk to you. It might jeopardize the case against Dylan."
"
Well, you don't have to worry about that now."
I bit my lip at that thought.
"Like you said, we weren't involved. I didn't see a need for a drawn-out goodbye," I said, hoping the words sounded lighter than they felt.
He lowered his eyes to the deck and gave a curt nod.
"When Donna asked if we were involved, it caught me off-guard," he said, and I could tell he was choosing his words carefully. "If I'd said yes, it would have been more difficult for you. There would be more scrutiny. More suspicion of your motives. And of my objectivity."
I opened my mouth to respond, but Jake turned, and his serious expression stopped the flippant reply I
'd readied. Instead, I closed my mouth and looked away. He reached over and took my hand again, and the touch sent a flood of warmth through me.
He pulled me to my feet, and we stood facing each other inches apart, my hand still enveloped in his.
"I guess I'll see you around the courthouse," he said.
Struggling to find my voice, I nodded and took a shaky breath.
"Maybe so. I'm helping Rob in a trial in January."
"
Yeah, I know. I'm the case agent on it."
"
Does that mean you'll testify?"
He nodded, a slow smile crossing his face.
"And I'll be working with the prosecutor at the trial. So I'll see you every day."
Well, crap
. I was no legal ethicist, but I was pretty sure it would be bad form for Rob's assistant to have an inconvenient crush on the FBI agent sitting at the prosecution's table.
He grinned and winked, giving my hand a squeeze before releasing it.
"Behave yourself, Miranda," he said and then turned and walked down the steps.
I watched him get into his truck and back out of the driveway, then drive down the road away from the cabin. I rested my hands on the railing, closed my eyes, and shook my head. It was going to be a long trial, sitting a dozen feet from Jake and trying not to show how that affected me.
Fate had a weird sense of humor, throwing Jake and me back in each other's orbits, yet conspiring to keep us apart. But maybe this time, I thought, maybe now we could figure out how to navigate that conflict.
I pushed off from the railing and walked to my car, ready to move forward and find out.
* * * * *
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Ellie Ashe has always been drawn to jobs where she can tell stories—journalist, lawyer, and now writer. Writing quirky romantic mysteries is how she gets the "happily ever after" that so often is lacking in her day job.
When not writing, you can find her with her nose in a good book, watching far too much TV, or trying out new recipes on unsuspecting friends and family. She lives in
Northern California with her husband and two cats, all of whom worry when she starts browsing the puppy listings on petfinder.com.
To learn more about Ellie Ashe, visit her online at:
http://ellieashe.com
* * * * *
If you enjoyed this Miranda Vaughn Mystery, check out this sneak peek of another romantic mystery from
Gemma Halliday Publishing
:
A DOSE OF DEATH
by
GIN JONES
* * * * *
If there was anything that annoyed Helen Binney more than people who tried to help her without waiting to be asked, it was people who were cheerful and efficient while they were providing that unwanted help.
At the moment, it was Helen's nieces who were irritating her. Laura Gray, the younger one, was cheerfully fluffing the sofa's pillows, while her older sister, Lily Binney, efficiently collected the used mugs from the coffee table and carried them to the kitchen sink. The two young women puttered around the cottage's great room that encompassed both the living room and kitchen/dining areas. They tidied things that didn't need tidying, put away things that Helen preferred left out, and just generally turned the comfortable space into a sterile box.
Helen watched her nieces from the safety of her recliner. "I
like
living here all by myself. It's a nice change for me after twenty years of running the governor's mansion. Go away and leave me alone."
"You don't mean that." Laura's response was as emphatic as her pillow-fluffing and rug-straightening. "We just got here."
Lily returned from the far side of the kitchen island. "She does mean it, Laura. But it doesn't matter. It's obvious that Aunt Helen can't live here alone, so she'll have to move in with one of us, where we can take care of her."
"You're talking as if I'm old and decrepit," Helen said. "I may be retired, but it was early retirement. I don't even qualify to join AARP."
"You're old in spirit," Lily said, coming to a stop behind the sofa, where she could stare down her aunt. "You always have been, according to Dad. And you admitted you were decrepit when you started to use a cane."
It wasn't her mind that was betraying her, it was her body, ravaged by a stupid, unpredictable disease. She could still count on her clear skin, thick brown hair and sharp brown eyes, but the rest of her was falling apart. Helen automatically glanced at the front door, where her cane hung from the knob, so she wouldn't forget to take it with her whenever she went out. It was a practical solution, but she hated the constant reminder of her limitations. Ever since she'd hit forty, her lupus had been taunting her, inflaming her joints, ruining her mood and stealing her independence.
"That's no way to talk to your aunt," she said, "calling me old and decrepit."
"It's the truth." Lily was naturally slender, with model-sharp cheekbones and an equally sharp mind that never forgot anything. "You're the one who told us always to tell the truth, never to hide behind the social lies that you were so good at before you decided to become a hermit."
"I was wrong." Apparently there was something worse than receiving unsolicited and unwanted help: having her own lectures quoted back at her. "Lies are good. You should tell more of them."
Laura, as soft around the edges as the pillow she hugged to her chest, sank onto the sofa. "It would be so nice if you came to live with me and Howie. I've always wanted an extended family for my children."
"You don't have any children yet," Helen said. "And when you do, you won't want me anywhere near them. Children hate me."
"I know that's not true," Laura said, her sweet, oval face becoming even more earnest. "Lily and I always adored you when we were children."
Helen adored her nieces in return, but she wasn't foolish enough to admit it right now. If she showed the least sign of weakness, she would find herself surrounded by grand-nieces and grand-nephews, and Auntie Helen would spend the rest of her life as an unpaid babysitter. She'd worked hard for the last twenty years, coddling one bunch of babies—her ex-husband and his cronies—and she wasn't about to replace them with a new set. No, her job was done, her career as the state's first lady was over, and she had every right to enjoy her retirement. Alone.
Laura smiled encouragingly, and there were still traces of the chubby little round face she'd had as a toddler.
Despite herself, Helen said, "I might be willing to visit you and your myriad of children occasionally."
"That would be lovely." By the look in Laura's eyes, she'd forgotten she was here to browbeat her aunt, and instead was daydreaming about the dozen or more babies she planned to create with her Howie.
"Never mind the babies," Lily said. "You need to decide which of us you'll live with."
"I'll disinherit both of you if you don't stop this foolishness right now."
Lily shrugged. "You probably disinherited us years ago and willed all your money to charity."
"You'll find out eventually." Most of her substantial estate was going to charity, but the girls had also been provided for. They obviously didn't consider being disinherited much of a threat, presumably because they knew she cared about them too much to actually do it, even if they did persist in helping her against her will. Whatever little leverage the threat gave her, though, was better than nothing. She was
not
moving out of her cottage.
"We don't need your money, Aunt Helen." Laura absently re-fluffed a pillow. "We have perfectly good jobs."
"Then how do you find the time to come bother me?" Helen said, struggling to get out of the recliner. This had gone far enough. It was time to show them to the door. "You should be at work, not spending half the day coming here to bother me."
"We don't work on Sundays." Lily said. "You know, forgetting the day of the week is one of the signs of mental disorientation."
"You are not going to commit me to a mental institution just because I sometimes lose track of the days of the week now that I'm not tied to a calendar." Helen leaned against the arm of the recliner, waiting for the ache in her hip to subside enough to allow her to walk without a pronounced limp. "Especially since I know that you work plenty of weekend hours, Lily Binney, so it's perfectly logical for me to expect you to be working on a Sunday."
"Very good." Lily smiled, her face still sharp, but no longer quite as worried. Lily had never had a sweet little baby face. By the time Laura was born, Lily had already looked and acted like a miniature adult. "You're still mentally alert."
"If anyone even thinks of committing me," Helen said, "I'll get out my Rolodex. You don't want to see what happens then."
"I know what you can do with a few phone numbers," Lily said. "I'm sure it's enough to strike terror in anyone's heart."
Laura ran out of pillows to fluff. "We just want to help, Aunt Helen."
"We don't want to commit you," Lily said, letting some of her frustration show, "but we really think you should come live with one of us so you aren't alone. It isn't safe for you here."
Neither of the girls would be easy to dissuade from their current plan. Lily was single-minded and thick-skinned. Laura was easily distracted, but also easily hurt in confrontations.
"I'm perfectly fine here." Why couldn't they see how happy she was here? The cottage had always been her refuge from her public life as the governor's wife. Vacation time spent here had given her the strength to get through the rest of the year, when she'd worked long hours charming all of her husband's constituents and cronies as he worked his way up the political food chain. "I've spent a good part of every summer here alone for a dozen years. You weren't worried then."
"It's different now," Laura said. "You're older."
"I'm forty-five," Helen said, struggling not to snap at the sensitive Laura. "That doesn't make me feeble."
"No," said Lily. "Your lupus flare-ups make you feeble."
Laura, who should have been used to her sister's blunt comments, still looked shocked. Laura patted Helen's arm. "It's just that you could have been hurt badly when you fell last week, and no one would have known you were in trouble."
"I'm perfectly fine," Helen lied. Her hip still didn't feel right, even though the bruise had faded, and the x-rays had ruled out a fracture. Standing just these few minutes, even leaning against the chair, had caused it to ache again.
"That's not what Dr. Jamison said," Lily insisted. "Your hip joint is already a mess with all the inflammation, and he wants to replace it before it's too late."
"Surgeons always want to chop you up, with the least little provocation," Helen said, although she knew they were probably right about the surgery. "What ever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality, anyway?"
"Dr. Jamison is just trying to help you," Laura said.
"Heaven save me from people trying to help me," Helen muttered. "Looks like I'm going to have to get out the Rolodex after all and call my lawyer."
"You don't have a lawyer any more," Lily said. "You only threaten to call one whenever you've run out of logical arguments. I still remember when you threatened to hire a lawyer to force me to eat my dinner."
Trust Lily to remember that. She'd been all of about four at the time, and Helen had been terrified her niece would starve to death while in Helen's custody, since Lily had refused to eat anything at all for twenty-four hours. Lily had been right not to eat, even if she'd been unable to explain why at the time. It had turned out that she had a stomach virus that would have been much worse if she'd eaten even a fraction of what Helen had pushed at her.
Now was not the time to dwell on past mistakes. She couldn't lose this battle. "This time I mean it. I'm calling my lawyer."
Helen shook off Laura's hand and headed across the great room for her desk, forcing herself not to limp, despite the pain in her hip.
"You don't have to do anything desperate." Laura trailed behind her. "Come live with me and Howie. We'll feed you and drive you where you want to go and spend lots and lots of time with you."
Helen was horrified by the prospect of all that help and would have said so if she hadn't known her niece was only offering what Laura, herself, would have found appealing in the circumstances.
Helen turned to face her loving, helpful nieces. "I've got everything I need right here, thank you. Including a bunch of things neither one of you can provide."
"Like what?" Laura asked.
"Solitude, for one," Helen said. "Peace and quiet, and no one to distract me from my hobbies."
"I didn't know you had any hobbies," Laura said. "Maybe we can do them together. I was thinking about learning to knit so I can make baby clothes."
Lily would never believe Helen was taking up knitting. She needed to come up with something that at least sounded plausible. Helen glanced in the direction of the desk cabinetry that lined the side wall and thought of the boxes hidden inside there, filled with the detritus of her political career. "Scrapbooking," she said. "I'm going to do something with all the pictures and newspaper clippings from my days in the governor's mansion."
"You'll hate scrapbooking," Lily said, ignoring her sister's disapproving look. "I'm giving you one last chance to decide for yourself which one of us you want to live with."
Even if Helen didn't want to live alone, it was an impossible choice. Laura would smother her with attention, and Lily would try to dictate Helen's every move, until one of them snapped. She crossed the room to settle back into her recliner, hoping her face didn't reveal the relief she felt at getting off her feet. "I am not living with either one of you. That's final."
"Something's got to be done." Lily stared at Helen for several long moments, apparently testing their respective resolves. Helen held herself still, refusing to blink, despite the sharp pain in her hip, vaguely aware of Laura's anxious glances back and forth between her sister and her aunt.
Finally, Lily picked up her purse with a frustrated huff. "If you won't move in with one of us, how about getting someone to come live with you?"
"I'm too old for a roommate." Helen caught sight of Laura's face going from worried to dreamy. "And I'm not interested in a lover."
"Why not?" Laura said. "Howie's got an uncle who's a widower. You'd love him."
"No matchmaking," Helen said. "Either one of you tries that, and I'll move to California, and your children will never, ever meet their great-aunt."
Laura looked stricken, and Helen tried not to care.
"What about a visiting nurse, at least?" Lily said. "Someone to bring you meals and monitor your prescriptions and just check in on you, to make sure you haven't fallen again."
"I don't need a babysitter," Helen said.
Laura, whose hurt feelings always healed as quickly and easily as they were bruised, perched on the arm of the recliner and leaned in for a hug. "I'm sure we could find a nice, helpful nurse who would stop by to visit you a few times a week. As long as you're okay, she'd just say hi and then leave right away. That wouldn't be too disruptive for you."
"Forget it, Laura. She isn't going to be reasonable," Lily said, heading for the front door.
