Stolen Secrets (19 page)

“If you and Ryan work at it, you can have the ideal marriage. I did. What you get is what you make. But there’s never a guarantee about the rest of the family.”

“Marriage— with Ryan. But he’s never— “

“You’ll probably have to do the asking, you know.”

“But what if he— “

“He loves you.”

Angie caught her breath. How did Grandma know such a thing? Had Ryan told her? Perhaps... “I love him.”

“Of course.”

“Can it be that simple?”

The elderly woman’s eyes twinkled. “Can’t you see how he looks at you? Tell him. Don’t wait.”

“Oh, boy.” She sat down hard on a kitchen chair that had found its way into the living room, grabbing at it as it teetered under her. “Shouldn’t the man be the one— ”

“Not necessarily.”

“What’ll I say?”

“You’ll think of something. Now help me over to that couch. I’m going to rest awhile.”

Ryan brought over supper, but it felt strained, for Angie kept looking for opportunities to talk and none came.

Early the next morning she put Tag on a leash and took her out for a walk, while Ryan left to get them all a few groceries. She let the pup charge around the parking area, noticing that she avoided the log. The little dog didn’t need a second lesson.

Angie’s ankle still ached when she walked on it too long, so she tugged on the leash. “Come on, Tag. Time to go.”

She had to half-pull the reluctant dog down the dock. “I’m giving you heeling lessons,” she threatened. “As soon as I learn how.”

Suddenly Tag barked and charged ahead. A man stood at the front door of Ryan’s houseboat.

“Hey!” Angie yelled. The man ducked his head and ran around the corner.

Oh, oh. Him again.

Without thinking about the consequences of her actions, Angie released Tag, who charged around the corner after the man, barking furiously. A yelp, a splash, then the roar of an engine.

Angie came around in time to see a white motor boat racing off. She could see that the boat’s name was taped over.

“Good try,” she praised Tag as she hauled the struggling dog onto the dock. Tag rewarded her with a wet tongue and a full shower. “You’re definitely going to have to learn to swim.”

She took Tag home and dried her off, then brought Grandma Miller up to date.

“I wish I could run faster. I might’ve caught a good look at his face.”

"Or you might’ve gone swimming with Tag.”

“He could’ve been someone other than our midnight intruder.”

“With the name covered on his boat? I don’t think so.”

“Whatever. He probably won’t come back— not today at least.”

“Ryan ought to put up a camera like they have in the stores. If this guy keeps coming around, he’d get his picture taken.”

“Good idea. I’ll mention it.”

She told Ryan of Grandma’s idea as soon as he returned, his arms full of groceries.

“Aha! I’m one ahead of you. I set it up last night, when I couldn’t sleep.” He put the sacks down, fished out his front door key and opened his door. “We’ll need to sort through this stuff. Where was he?”

“On your front porch,” she said, excited that they’d get a look at the intruder’s face. Angie fairly bounced with eagerness.

Ryan grinned as he carried the groceries in and set them on the kitchen counter. “Can’t wait?”

“No. He knocked Tag into the lake.”

Ryan shook his head, retrieved the tape and popped it into the VCR.

He put it into reverse for a minute, then started it. She could see herself and Tag walking by, the dog sniffing at each spot, then a time of little activity.

“Here he is,” Ryan said, as a face ducked into view, the man’s gaze checking all the corners before stepping closer. He quickly moved over to Ryan’s door and started working on the lock.

“I’ve seen him before,” Angie said, excitement building within her. The man’s face appeared distorted, but identifiable. “I know I have. Now if I can just remember where.” She tried to force the memory, but couldn’t.

“Give it time. It’ll come to you. I think I’ve seen him, too.” He rewound the tape and put it into a case. “After Warren’s funeral I’ll take this to Eric. He might put it out on the Crime-stoppers show. Someone’ll know this guy.”

“I hope so. When do we leave?”

“In an hour.” He walked into the kitchen and handed her some butter from the grocery bag.

“How’s Mary?” she asked, putting it into the refrigerator.

“Better this morning. This juice is yours.”

They finished sorting and Ryan picked up the rest of the groceries to carry over to Grandma’s place. Angie opened the door for him, then noticed Kent and Chase standing on his front porch.

“You climbing today?” she asked them as Ryan joined her.

“Yes. It’s Saturday. We’re waiting for Nathaniel and Selina. Ryan says there has to be four of us before we can climb.”

“For safety,” Ryan added. He smiled his pleasure at the two for following his rules, then he and Angie proceeded down the dock.

“How many children do you want?” she asked.

“Ump...! ” It wasn’t a word, he was gagging. He looked about ready to drop the groceries. So much for Grandma’s suggestion.

“What kind of question is that?” he returned, juggling the bags until he had a better grip. Tag ran hopefully up, ready to retrieve any lost items. Like bacon.

“Nothing,” Angie said hastily. “I just wondered.”

“Uh... three. Four. The houseboat might be too small. Uh... ” He shook his head as if to clear it and she took pity on him and walked on ahead, opening the door to Grandma’s house. He gave her a bewildered look as he passed through. He definitely hadn’t been ready for her question.

Come to think of it, she hadn’t either. It had just popped out. And when he carefully avoided touching her as he helped put the food away, she decided she had ruined everything.

Grandma beamed when she heard they had the intruder’s picture. “Should’ve done it a long time ago.”

“Sorry, Grandma. I kept thinking he wouldn’t try again.”

“Whatever he wants, he wants bad.”

“The CDs.” He folded up the last sack and turned to Angie. “I’ll get ready and meet you here.”

At least he hadn’t stopped talking to her. “Shouldn’t you call and have your place guarded while we’re gone?”

“Yes. I’ll do that. Oh, I nearly forgot. Here’s some mail for you.” He pulled a card out of his coat pocket.

It was from Stormy. Her college friends were getting together for an Idaho ski vacation and wanted Angie to join them. Angie read it through twice, happy to be back in touch with them. Ryan had said he’d do a computer search. Evidently he had, and had forwarded her address to Stormy.

“This is wonderful. Thanks,” she said, handing him the card to read.

“Going?”

“Maybe. I don’t know. It all depends.”
On you
, she felt like adding, but didn’t.

* * *

The funeral parlor was jammed, people overflowing into the adjoining room. Men and women and a few children. Ryan spotted Alison and Robyn, one on each side of Mary, literally holding her up, and went to them.

As soon as they reached them, Angie hugged Mary and held her close. Mary responded with a shaky gasp, trying to control her tears. “Thank you,” she managed to say. “Thank you all for coming.”

“Your father had lots of friends,” Ryan told her.

“But none as close as you. You were the one he turned to when he needed help.”

“I’m glad. We’ll sit here,” he said, pointing to a spot in the row behind her. He wanted to be close in case Mary passed out.

“Thanks, Ryan.”

Scott was standing at the end of the row, and Ryan nodded to him while motioning Angie toward the chairs.

“Scott. Glad you came.”

“This is a raw deal for Mary. Warren didn’t deserve to die like that.”

“Agreed.”

“You know,” Scott added as Ryan and Angie started to walk past him, “you really should say something.”

Puzzled, Ryan looked at his partner who clarified his words. “Up front.”

His mind rejected the suggestion. Public speaking was something he avoided at all costs. “You know I’m not good at that.”

“Mary won’t understand. She’ll expect you to speak about Warren.”

“There’ll be plenty of others.”

“But you knew him best. You have to say something. Doesn’t he, Angie?” Scott turned to her for support.

“Yes, I think so. You needn’t say a lot.”

“There. You see?” said Scott, and walked away.

“What had you say that for?” Ryan asked her.

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“I’ve never spoken before a group this size.”

“Just say a little something.”

“I can’t. My brain stops functioning. It’s happened before. I always let Scott do the public speaking.”

“Just look at me. Tell me about Warren. Forget the rest of the people.”

“That’s easy to say.”

“You’re just speaking to one person at a time, you know. Each person hears you, individually.”

“What do you know about it?”

“I had a speech coach before the Olympics. We were expected to be able to talk to the media, so they gave us a few sessions on public speaking.”

“Did it work?’

“Yes. When you’re up there, look only at me. Talk only to me. Forget everyone else.”

He shook his head as the room quieted further and the service began. All too soon the first speaker walked to the front. As the man spoke about Warren, Ryan felt his mind shutting down. What could he say?

Each person related stories about Warren with feeling and conviction, and with each one, Ryan felt worse.

Angie touched his hand and he flinched. “Your turn,” she said.

He couldn’t breathe. He took a deep breath, but still felt short of air. He shook his head, but she smiled, so he forced himself to his feet and fumbled his way forward. He’d mumble something. They’d think he was just talking too soft.

Somehow he reached the front and walked to the rostrum. He put his hands on it and lifted his gaze. The impact— everyone looking at him— grabbed him and he tightened his grip.

Angie. He searched for her and found her face. She smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. He swallowed, his mouth and throat dry, and grabbed the glass of water sitting there. A sip. He nearly choked. He had to say something.

He locked his gaze on Angie.

“I guess... ” The sound of his voice, magnified by the loudspeaker, bounced back, stopping him. “I... I... ” His voice, so soft, seemed to rebound off the wall. He stared at Angie. She nodded again, and he focused on her alone.

“I guess Warren got used to saving lives.” That sounded okay. Just a couple more words, then he’d step down. “He saved many in the Search and Rescue missions he went on. He saved mine once.”

He’d tell her about that. “It was the first time I met him. I was climbing Mt. Rainier. It should’ve been an easy climb, but a blizzard dropped in on my group, knocking us over a cliff. We pegged our tent to a ledge, roped ourselves in, and hoped we wouldn’t blow away. The first person who knocked the snow off and said, ‘How you doing?’ was Warren.”

His mind began to function again. He wasn’t ready to stop— he hadn’t said all he thought about Warren. “I guess he got used to saving lives... and when he saw George in trouble he reacted automatically, trying to help a friend. It’s sad that we have people who’ll take out a man like Warren. I believe it was done in panic. There wasn’t much thought to this robbery. But Warren was a dear friend; we’ll miss him.” He paused, amazed he had spoken so long. His gaze wandered, noticing briefly the red-haired woman in the fifth row, then it fell upon Mary, white-faced, her eyes red rimmed and misty— but shining as she looked at him.

Yes, she needed to be here. They had done the right thing.

“I’ll miss him. Of all of us, his daughter will miss him the most. She’s fortunate to have had a father so loving and caring that he put her welfare above all else. Now she must go on without him, but she won’t be alone. All of us are here to help you, Mary. We won’t desert you. Not now. Not ever. Warren helped us— now it’s our turn to help you.”

The hall seemed strangely quiet when he finished, as if everyone was holding his breath. Well, he hadn’t fallen down on the way up, and he had probably surprised all who knew him by being able to croak out a few words. All he had to do now was close and go sit down.

But he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Feeling slightly foolish, he shrugged and hurried back to his seat. Once there, Angie grabbed his hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Wonderful,” she whispered. “What made you think you couldn’t speak?”

That was Angie, always being encouraging, but he had heard the silence. He had probably shocked everyone with his reference to Mary. No one else had mentioned her.

And no one else rose to talk, either. The minister finished the service, and people went forward to pass the casket.

“Your hand is freezing cold,” Angie remarked, giving it another squeeze.

“I’m glad that’s over. I hope I didn’t embarrass you.”

“Of course not.”

They passed the casket and entered the anteroom, which buzzed with low talk.

“Good job, Ryan.” He shook hands with an acquaintance of his, a man he barely knew.

“Wished I had have said that,” another added, and several more men, some who had spoken, some who had not, came up and shook his hand. “Excellent.”

He couldn’t understand it. Did they feel so sorry for him that they had to exaggerate?

Robyn found him next. “Alison and I’ll take Mary to live with us. We figure she’ll be okay if she isn’t left alone at night.”

“I’ll help you move her.”

“That might be awhile. We’ll let you know when she’s able to sort through Warren’s belongings and decide what she wants. For sure she’ll need that old chair of her mother’s. We’ll get it today.”

“It’s a good thing she has you, Rob. She needs someone who can help her though this.”

Robyn nodded, her gaze searching for Mary, returning to him only when she felt assured that her charge was making it. “I couldn’t leave her, not after what you said. I wouldn’t anyway.”

Alison stepped up and nodded to him. “I agree. That was a super speech you made, Ryan. Better than all the rest.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. So did everyone else. We all felt joined to you and what you were saying.”

“But Scott’s— ”

“Scott was eloquent. You spoke from the heart.”

“Don’t sell yourself cheap, brother,” Robyn added. “All you had to do was try.”

Embarrassed, Ryan looked around. “There was a red-haired woman here. Angie and I saw her at Warren’s house the day he died. Any idea who she is? She seemed devastated.”

“She probably signed the guest book. Why not look there?”

He walked over to where the book lay open on the small table and scanned down the names. His and Angie’s were there, with Scott’s name immediately underneath. Several Barbara’s. He read through completely, but couldn’t put a last name to the red-haired woman, so gave up.

Scott stood nearby and he asked him if he knew her.

“No. Don’t know who you’re talking about. How goes the investigation?”

“We’ve got a picture of my thief.”

“How?”

“I set up a surveillance camera this morning and video-taped him while I was at the grocery store. Now all we’ve got to do is put a name to the face. Shouldn’t take too long. I’m going down to the police station after I take Angie home.
She’s living with Gran— with Mrs. Miller.”

“Good hunting.”

“Right. We’ll check Ted’s bookie first. My bet’s on him.” He left Scott to help carry the casket.

* * *

Returning home, Angie changed clothes, then went downstairs to bring Grandma up to date. She petted Sugar as the cat crawled into her lap, much to the annoyance of Tag. “Ryan is at the police station right now, giving them the surveillance tape,” she said, feeling elated that Ryan finally acted like he trusted her. Just before leaving, he had shown her the combination to his office safe.