One Millhaven Lane (7 page)

Nate remembered her brother's animosity toward Asia. He'd referred to her as 'The Good Twin'. Mama's pet, he'd taunt. Bobby's ill will toward his sister ran deeper than sibling rivalry. With Asia out of the way, he'd inherit Joanna's house solely, and if Asia didn't have a will, everything she possessed would go to Bobby as her next-of-kin. A nice chunk of change for a drug addict. In addition, she owned a profitable business in Boston and the insurance proceeds from her mother's insurance. Bobby would become a wealthy man with Asia dead.

Nate also remembered how Asia had come by
Aphrodite.
Maybe her benefactor's heirs weren't complacent like she assumed. Maybe they saw Asia as an opportunist, cashing in on something that wasn't rightfully hers and were back to make her sorry she'd gotten in their way. He wouldn't mention anything about that until the blood analysis came back.

"She's been incoherent since I brought her in, so I haven't been able to question her," Nate said. Asia's plea for him not to kill her played over and over in his mind. She thought he was her attacker. Didn't she know he could never hurt her, that he could never raise a hand in anger to her?

"What did you get on Bobby?"

"Nothing that either of us wouldn't expect. He's got a rap sheet an arm long, as we know, and is presently on bail for an assault. Trial's next month. A uniform in Portland dropped by his last known address and no one was home. The landlord said Bobby hasn't been around for several days. Owes him rent. The usual stuff. Mailbox jammed with bills and sales flyers. The uniform had a peek inside, and it looked to him like Bobby left in a hurry. A carton of milk sat next to a bowl of cereal on the table."

"Did anything come of the canvass of Asia's street?" Nate asked.

"Nothing. No one saw or heard anything. It looks like he brought the knife with him and left with it too."

Nate mentioned Bobby's love for a switchblade. He could hear the shuffle of paper on Carter's side of the phone.

"That makes sense. According to several police reports, it's his weapon of choice." The chief cleared his throat. "Why now? Why didn't he make a move on Asia sooner? Joanna's gone six months and some."

"Who knows with Bobby? Something's misfiring in his brain. Always has been."

"Watch your back, Nate. That's where Bobby will strike. Expect his return real soon. He's not the sharpest tool in the shed."

"Smart enough to plan an attack here rather than Boston."

"He probably thinks we yahoos won't be a match for him."

"Yeah."

***

Asia was tired, too tired even to open her eyes. A hand held hers, warm and soft. "Nate?"

"I'm right here, love."

A chair scraped the floor and she felt him coming to his feet. "Don't leave."

"I won't. I promise."

His words comforted her. No one would hurt her with Nate at her side.

"Are you ready to blow this joint?"

Her eyes flew open of their own volition, it seemed. "I can leave?"

"Sure can."

"Well, hell. What are we waiting for?"

Chapter Five

Asia lifted her head from the pillow and looked at Nate standing in the doorway with a tray in his hands.

"It wasn't necessary to put me to bed." She sat up. "I'd be just as comfortable on the sofa."

"The doctor was implicit. Bed rest and sustenance. By the way, your cupboards are barer than Mother Hubbard's."

"I packed up everything for Romero House on my last visit."

He set the tray on her lap. "Tomato soup, crackers and milk, compliments of The Haunted House."

"No chicken soup?"

"You like tomato. What's the matter with tomato?"

"Nothing, other than it's red."

"Oh God, I'm sorry. That was insensitive of me. I'll have Madge send over some chicken soup."

Clearly, Nate would cater to her. He'd been so considerate, taking her in through the kitchen door and up the back staircase so she wouldn't see her blood on the floor. He probably had elves cleaning up the mess already.

"The soup's fine. I was joking."

"Are you sure?"

"Uh-huh. Did you tell Madge what happened?"

"I didn't have to. She knew."

Asia grimaced. "I keep forgetting how small a town this is."

"News, good and bad, travels at the speed of light in the Grove." He sat on the edge of the bed. "We should talk about what happened."

"Give you my statement, you mean." Ravenous, she greedily spooned soup into her mouth. Her hands shook; a combination of low blood sugar and anxiety. She broke a cracker in two and ate one half, washing the crumbs down with milk.

"Can you talk about it now?"

"Sure. No problem. After I left you at the lake, I drove straight here. I came in the front door and removed my shoes. Then, in my peripheral vision, I saw the glint of metal." She stammered as she envisioned the knife coming through the air at her. "A second later, I realized there was an intruder in the house." She paused. This was more difficult than she'd anticipated. She wiped the moisture from her upper lip and let a few seconds pass before continuing. Nate must have sensed her unease because he clasped her hand and offered to let the statement go for a while.

"No, I'm all right." She ate more soup and crackers and, feeling stronger, continued her story without another hiccup. "And that's it."

"You weren't able to get a look at your assailant at all?"

She shook her head.

"Did you get a sense of his size?"

"I didn't hear him approach, so he may be a light walker." She didn't want to talk about the assault anymore. "Tell me about your ex-wife?"

He jerked his head back and looked her squarely in the eyes. "Why?"

"I don't know. The question just popped into my mind." That was a lie. Truthfully, she often wondered why his marriage had failed. Her marriage didn't work because she could never get over Nate and no man would ever measure up. Her ex-husband had been right. Maybe the time had come to admit the truth. Before she could open her mouth, he spoke.

"Catherine and I weren’t suited. We should never have married.” He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Asia knew what he was about to say would come straight from the heart. “Truth is, she wasn't you, Asia."

She smiled. "That's a wonderful answer." The right one.

"And you? Why didn’t your marriage work?" His voice was soft, tentative, like he was afraid of her response.

"The same."

He let out a long, harsh breath and took her hand.

Nate’s strength rejuvenated her. She wanted to continue where they’d left off. “I can talk about the intruder now, if you’d like.”

“Only if you feel up to it.”

“Go ahead. Ask your questions.”

"Do you know anyone who would want to kill you? Besides me, I mean."

"You heard that?"

"Uh-huh."

"I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly. Your boots..." She closed her eyes against the image of a knife slashing the air above her head.

"What about them?"

"This morning, when I left for Harry's office, I noticed a footprint below the kitchen window. Only one boot I know makes such a distinctive imprint." She looked over the side of the bed at his feet. "Those boots, in fact."

"And from that you decided I wanted to kill you?" He cocked a brow.

"Well, yes. Wouldn't you?"

"No."

She thought about it, then laughed at herself and how absurd she could be at times. "You would have gotten more facts together before coming to a conclusion."

"Something like that."

"But not exactly." Then the truth dawned. She said the words for him. "You would never think I was capable of killing you."

"Something like that." He half-smiled. He tried not to let it show but she'd hurt him.

"I'm sorry."

He nodded.

"When I walked around the house, looking for something the assailant might have left behind, I saw that print. Aside from the fact I wasn't anywhere near the back of your house last night or any night, but if I had been, it couldn't be mine. I'd make a deeper indentation."

"So my attacker is a lighter build."

"That would be my guess. The fella who left the print in the flowerbed might not be your attacker."

"Maybe I spooked a burglar."

"It's possible."

"But not likely?" She looked at him "I can't remember Mom or anyone in the Grove ever locking their doors. Except for Ricky Morison's crime spree, no one's ever had anything stolen from their houses." She grinned, picturing the four-year-old going from house to house helping himself to donations for his trike fund.

"How is he?" she asked.

"Reformed, house-trained and walking the straight and narrow."

"How old's he now? Ten?"

"About that. Cute kid."

"Did my attacker leave anything behind? Anything that would identify him?" She wanted to know Nate's thoughts, wanting to be part of the investigation.

"Maybe. Carter discovered a spot of blood on the dining room floor. He sent the sample to the lab for ID. If your assailant's DNA is in the system, we'll know his identity soon enough."

"It has to be his because I wasn't anywhere near the dining room at the time of, during or after the attack." The information relieved some of her anxiety. In the back of her mind, she'd wondered if her assailant would come back to complete the job he'd started. There was something in Nate's expression that said he was keeping something from her.

"You don't think this was random violence, do you?"

"Stabbing typically suggests a crime of passion."

She knew what he was thinking. "There are no jilted lovers and nobody I know would do something like that, so don't waste your time investigating." The attack on her didn't make any sense. Her mother didn't have anything of great value. What valuables she had were precious only to Asia. What had Nate said — a crime of passion? She was on good terms, friends even, with her ex-husband, and there were no jealous lovers. She wasn't in a relationship and there wasn't anyone she'd dated capable of hurting her, and even if they were, they had no reason. Her split-ups had been, if not mutual, amicable.

"What do we have, then?"

Asia thought Nate had asked the question expecting her to know the answer. After a moment of thought, she remembered what Harry had said. Then she understood what Nate was getting at but didn't want to say.

"My mother's house. Bobby and I own it equally, per stirpes. Neither of us have children, so if one of us dies, the surviving sibling would inherit the house. Oh God." Her skin chilled. She shuddered. "My own brother tried to kill me."

Ashamed and heartbroken, she covered her face with her hands. Two minutes passed before she could look at Nate. "He tried to kill me," she said, unable to wrap her mind around the certainty. "What did I do to him that was so awful he wants me dead?"

Tears she'd managed to hold back burst free, flowing from her eyes and down her cheeks. Her heart couldn't ache any more if Bobby had stabbed it.

Nate took her in his arms and held her. "It isn't anything you did, honey. This is all on Bobby. All his. No one else's." He kissed her hair and rocked her. "I won't let him come near you."

She used her fingers to wipe the tears from her face. "I know you won't." She removed herself from his hold and looked at him. Within an instant, she felt powerful, like she could take on all the riff-raff in the world and win.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

She nodded. "A good cry always helps." She managed a smile.

He nudged his chin at the tray. "Eat up. You need to rebuild your strength."