Secrets in the Shadows (15 page)

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Authors: T. L. Haddix

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense

BOOK: Secrets in the Shadows
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“Okay, then. So what can I do for you? I’m assuming I passed your test?”
“Lauren said you’d offered your services. I’d like to take you up on that offer.”
“What about Lauren? Is she okay with me handling things?”
“She is. She asked me to have you call her after we talked.”
Charlie felt worlds lighter. All his training and hard work had finally paid off in a very tangible way—he’d be able to help someone important to him. “I’d be glad to do anything I can. What do you need on these people?”
“Basically, I need to know every move the man has made for the past fifteen years or so, going back even before what he tried with Lauren. I’d also like to try and find out what happened to Margie. I think it’s strange that she disappeared the same night he did, and that no one’s heard from her since.”
“You think he did something to her, murdered her? It wouldn’t be the first time something like that’s happened.”
“I don’t know. Carl’s son, Rob, is the one who asked about getting this investigation started. I think he would have mentioned it if he suspected his father of doing something to his sister.”
Charlie grunted noncommittally. “Did Rob tell you anything about his brother, Troy?”
“No, he didn’t. Why? You think there’s something there?”
“Yeah, I do. It’s just a gut feeling I got when I looked in his eyes yesterday. He made me uneasy.”
“Well, it can’t hurt to check him out. I appreciate you volunteering to do this.”
With a silent groan, he decided to come clean. “I have a confession. I had pretty much decided to look into these people, with or without her permission. Lauren was pretty shaken up by everything that happened. She deserves some answers.”
David didn’t speak for a minute. “Just how interested are you in my ex-wife?”
“I don’t know how to answer that. I really like her, and Ava. I don’t want to see them hurt. I’m not chasing after Lauren just to get her into bed.”
“That’s good enough, then.” He asked for Charlie’s email address. “I’ll send you all the pertinent details about the Vernons. How long do you think it’ll take to find what we’re looking for?”
“Well, my schedule just got a whole lot more open. I’ve been helping a friend at his restaurant while he recuperated, and he came back to work tonight. I can get preliminary stuff within a couple of days at the outside, but it’ll be a few more days before I can get the final report. I’m assuming you’ll need this ASAP. I should have it finished by Monday or Tuesday. Is that going to be soon enough?”
David assured him that it was, and after talking about a few more details, they hung up. Charlie felt a tiny pang of guilt. He hadn’t exactly been honest with David. He was a whole lot closer to Lauren than he wanted to admit to anyone.

 

 

 

~
* ~

 

After making quick stops at the cellular phone store and the Dragon for some takeout, Charlie drove home. He sat his purchases down on the kitchen counter and washed his hands. Grabbing two bowls, one large, one small, he opened the white food boxes and dished out portions from each of them. His cat, a large Maine coon named Rumble, wound around his ankles, meowing and purring loudly. As he was closing the lids back on the food, the cat jumped up on the counter and swatted at his hands.
“Stop that. You know I wouldn’t forget your broccoli chicken.” He picked the cat up and placed him on the floor, followed closely by the small dish of the aforementioned food. Rumble dove in, his purrs competing with the smacking noises he made lapping up the sauce.
Smiling, Charlie put the leftovers in the fridge and grabbed a bottle of water. Standing at the counter, he ate quickly, rinsing off the plate and putting it in the dishwasher when he was finished. He picked up Rumble’s now-empty bowl and did the same, making sure the door to the dishwasher was locked. He had learned the hard way that a large, intelligent cat like Rumble could accomplish almost human-like feats if the motivation was great enough, and dishes coated in food scraps provided a pretty fierce motivation.
Grabbing an apple and his new cell phone, he jogged up the stairs with Rumble beside him every step of the way. Making a brief detour by the bedroom to change into comfortable old jeans and a t-shirt, he padded barefoot into the office and flipped on the desk lamp. While his computer booted, he munched on the apple and studied the room.
When Charlie had moved back to Leroy from Virginia, he knew that he didn’t want to set up a separate office for Clark Consulting. He’d found the large house that overlooked the river and town below, and walked through the rooms, seeing the possibilities. With six bedrooms, the house would more than accommodate both his office and the possibility of a family. While he hadn’t come back with the express goal of marriage, he was thinking about settling down, and had looked for a house that would suit those needs.
After the deal closed, he immediately hired a contractor to tear down the wall that separated two of the bedrooms, creating a large, open space to house his office. He also had the wiring and telephone lines updated, and a built-in work center added under the new, larger windows in the office. Sitting there now, he glanced out at the spectacular view, but turned his attention quickly to his computer, pulling up his email.
After catching up on the most urgent pieces of busy work related to running his business, he opened the email from David Grant. He read through the message twice, then printed it out and pulled up his search programs. As he started plugging in the names and numbers, he smiled grimly to himself. “Okay, you bastard,” he said under his breath, “let’s see what all you have to hide.”

 

 

Chapter Sixteen

 

When Lauren’s phone rang at four-thirty Friday morning, she knew it wouldn’t be good news. Hoping for a wrong number, she fumbled out from under the covers and reached to answer it.
“Hello?” After a brief silence, she heard a sniffle.
“Lauren, it’s Janet.”
Propping herself up on the pillows, she pushed the hair out of her face. She was still fuzzy, not having been asleep for very long. She’d had dinner with Charlie the night before, and the evening had lasted into the wee hours, with the two of them sitting and talking about anything and everything.
“What’s wrong? Are you sick?”
“No, I’m—I’m fine. It’s the shop.”
Heart pounding, she sat up. “What’s wrong with the shop?” When there wasn’t an answer, she started to panic. “Janet? Are you there?” She swung her legs over the side of the bed.
“I’m here. There’s no easy way… The shop’s been vandalized. You’d better get down here.”
Lauren opened her closet and grabbed the first pair of jeans and shirt she found. “Okay. I’ll call Mom and Dad to come watch Ava, and I’ll be right there. Have you called the police?”
“That’s my next call. Helga’s here with me, and we’re going to wait in her car until someone comes.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I can.” As she went into the bathroom, she dialed her parents’ number. Her father answered, his voice rough with sleep.
“Daddy, there’s an emergency at the Brown Bag. I hate to ask, but I need you and Mom to watch Ava.”
“Is she still asleep?”
“Yes. Janet just called me, and I haven’t woken her up yet.”
“Then leave Ava asleep. We’ll come to you. Be there in ten minutes.”
Thanking him, Lauren hung up and got dressed. She ran a quick brush through her hair and pulled it up into a ponytail, her hands shaking. Back in the bedroom, she grabbed her shoes and sat down on the bed to put them on.
Vandalized, Janet had said. She hoped it was nothing more than some spray-painted graffiti and possibly some broken windows, but she couldn’t help feeling a deep worry in the pit of her stomach. Remembering how upset her assistant manager’s voice sounded, she knew that it was much worse.
She checked on Ava, who was sound asleep, then hurried downstairs to the kitchen. The coffee pot was ready to go, and she turned it on, knowing her parents would want some hot coffee when they arrived. Grabbing her purse, she went out to wait on the porch. They arrived a scant minute later, and Lauren hurried over, meeting them in the driveway.
Molly got out of the passenger’s seat and came around the front of the car. “Have you heard anything more?” she asked as Winston rolled his window down.
Lauren shook her head. “All I know is that Janet sounded very, very upset. She was going to call the police as soon as she hung up with me.”
Molly frowned. “I wonder why the alarm didn’t go off.”
“I don’t know. It may have, or there might not be that much damage. I hope that’s the case, but I don’t think Janet would have been so upset over some spray-painted slogans. I need to be going.” Hugging her mother, she drew back. “Aren’t you going inside, Daddy?”
“Nope, I’m your driver this morning. Get in.”
Molly followed her to the passenger’s door. “I’ll stay with Ava. You have your car keys, in case I need to go somewhere?”
“Of course.” Lauren handed her the keys. “Thank you, Mom.”
Lauren and Winston didn’t exchange a word on the drive down the hill into town. When they reached Main Street, they could see the flash of lights from a police car. As Winston made the turns that would take them around the park, Lauren expelled a tense breath. He parked on the empty street in front of the building, and they rushed to the small cluster of people who’d gathered in front of the café.
Reaching out to Janet, Lauren pulled the older woman close for a hug, shocked to feel her trembling. “Are you both okay?” Releasing her, she hugged Helga, who had obviously been crying. “What happened?”
Gary Collins, a police officer with the city of Leroy, answered. “It’s pretty bad in there, Ms. Grant, I’m sorry to say. Two sheriff’s deputies are in there right now, making sure the building is clear. Once they come out, you can go in and take a look.”
Looking at the building, Lauren searched for signs of vandalism, surprised when she saw none. “What did they do, Janet? I don’t see any graffiti.”
“Oh, honey, it’s so much worse than graffiti.”
As she continued to stare at the building, Lauren realized that something was very odd about its appearance. Moving closer, she tried to put her finger on exactly what was wrong. It was still dark outside, with dawn barely peaking over the horizon, and it occurred to her that the lights should be on inside.
“It’s tar,” Janet said, interpreting her confusion. “It’s everywhere inside. That’s why the windows look so funny.”
“Tar? Oh, no. Who in the world…” Her father’s voice trailed off as two men came around the side of the building, grim expressions on their faces.
“Building’s clear.” The taller one, Ethan Moore, detective with the Olman County Sheriff’s Department, nodded at her and Winston.
The second deputy, who turned out to be Jason Hudson, spoke. “Lauren, Win. Sorry to bring you out for this.”
“Ethan, Jason. How bad is it in there?”
Ethan studied her face for a moment before answering. “It’s probably better if you see for yourself. It’s pretty bad.”
With her father following, she let the detective lead them around to the side entrance. He stopped just before they went inside. “Try to not touch anything, and watch your step. There’s glass all over the place.”
As soon as Lauren crossed the threshold, she stopped, stunned by the level of destruction. The men stood behind her, and she cautiously moved further inside so that they could enter. Tar covered every surface, including the windows. The sticky, black substance puddled on the dining room floor, and the air was heavy with the offensive smell.
Slashed to bits, the stuffing of the cushions in the booths had been strewn all over and adhered to the tar. As a result, the dining room looked like it had been tarred and feathered. The glass display case was shattered, the menu chalkboards knocked down and broken, and the low-hanging light fixtures smashed. Even the cash register was on the floor, covered in tar.
Looking at the devastation of the shop she had worked so hard to build, her stomach churned. The stench of tar was overwhelming, and if her father had not been there to support her, she thought she might have collapsed. She took one of his hands, which was gripping her shoulder. Swallowing, she managed to steady herself enough to continue.
“I need to see it all,” she told Ethan.
“Are you sure?”
She nodded. “Please.”
He walked past her into the mess, showing them where to step. “Come on back, then.”
They made their way to the kitchen, where the swinging doors hung drunkenly from their hinges. Inside, the destruction was just as bad. Two empty five-gallon roofing tar buckets were tipped over in the middle of the floor. The countertops, stainless steel except for a section of marble in the middle of the room, were covered in the stuff. The marble itself was smashed, and the glass doors on the ovens had been hammered. The glass was shattered and only the protective safety film held it in the doors.

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