The Legend of Smuggler's Cave (8 page)

“And oil-shale production means less wilderness and more people.”

He nodded. “More eyes. Exactly.”

“He wanted to use a Davenport truck to deliver something to Oak Ridge that would pose a threat, then. Something that might cause a nuclear incident.”

“We don’t think he was planning to do anything horribly damaging.” The microwave dinged and Dalton retrieved the two cups of hot chocolate. He gave her the cup she’d sipped from, keeping the other for himself. “Careful. It’s pretty hot.”

She looked up at him, her expression curious. “Do you think they were planning to use Johnny to drive the truck that would get into Oak Ridge and cause the trouble?”

“I’m not sure. I just know Johnny seemed to be asking a lot of questions at Cortland. Questions that even that pretty little bookkeeper noticed. If she noticed, other people might have, as well.”

“You think that’s why he was killed.”

“I think it’s possible.”

She sipped her hot chocolate, her expression hard to read.

“Were you and Johnny happy?” he asked, regretting the words the second they spilled from his lips.

She looked up sharply. “Does it matter?”

He shook his head.

She set the cup of hot chocolate on the breakfast bar counter. “I told you, the same day he died, I started divorce proceedings.”

“I know.”

She cupped her hands around the mug. “I did love him. He was my first everything. You know? But he never grew up. The woman in Virginia—I know she wasn’t the first one. And I couldn’t keep myself and Logan in that kind of situation. So I started looking into my options.”

“And then he was murdered.”

She looked up at him. “I was lucky I had an alibi, huh?”

The urge to reach out and smooth those little frown lines from her face was so overwhelming he had to curl his hands around his hot-chocolate mug to control it. “Why don’t you try to catch up on a little sleep, since you have the night off?”

She shook her head, turning to pour out the remains of her hot chocolate into the sink. “I’m okay now. There’s no reason why I can’t go back to the station and put in some hours.”

“I thought they ordered you home.”

She shrugged. “I’m ordering myself back.” She started toward the stairs, then suddenly stopped, turning to look at him. “If Logan wakes up, he may want you to read him a story. Is that okay? His books are in a bag in the guest room closet.”

Dalton smiled. “I can do that.”

The faint smile she offered in return made his chest ache a little. She turned and continued upstairs.

As he was pouring the rest of his own hot chocolate down the drain, his cell phone rang. He dug it from his pocket and checked the display. With a sigh, he answered. “Hi, Mom.”

“You didn’t call me about lunch today.”

He closed his eyes, grimacing. “I’m sorry. Things have gotten real crazy around here all of a sudden. Rain check?”

“How about tomorrow? I can meet you at the Sequoyah House Tea Room around noon.”

He could tell from her tone that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. “Okay. Sequoyah House tomorrow, noon. How’re you doing, Mom? Everything okay?”

“I’m well,” she answered sparely. “I’ll see you at noon.”

He hung up and shoved his phone in his pocket, both wishing he could get out of lunch with his mother and hating himself for feeling that way.

His father and grandfather had hurt a lot of people with their lies and machinations.

Including the people they were supposed to be protecting.

Chapter Eight

The doorbell chime startled Briar from a light doze on the sofa. Curled up on the cushion beside her, Logan was still napping, but that wouldn’t last long if whoever was leaning on the doorbell didn’t give it a rest.

She put down the book she’d been reading and grabbed the Glock from her waistband holster, standing on tiptoe to reach the security lens set high into the solid oak of Dalton Hale’s front door. The fish-eye lens revealed Walker Nix’s face, to her relief. She holstered the Glock, twisted open the deadbolt and unlatched the security chain to let him in. “Aren’t you on duty?” she asked, keeping her voice low.

“Good morning to you, too,” he whispered, stepping inside.

“Logan’s asleep.” She locked the door and led him into the kitchen.

He sat, looking around. “Nice digs. Never been here before.”

She grinned at him. “What, you’re not on the Sutherland/Hale society guest list? I thought you Nixes were one of the oldest families in the hills.”

“Oh, we are. That might be the problem.”

Chuckling, she perched next to him. “What are you doing here?”

“Just checking on you. Seeing how Hale’s treating y’all.”

“Very kindly, actually,” she answered with a smile.

“You sound like you actually like the guy.”

She shrugged, thinking about that brief tension-strung moment she and Dalton had shared in the upstairs hall the night before. She’d put it from her mind, filed it away under Things That Don’t Need to Be Repeated, but the memory seemed to have a rebellious streak. So she’d found the man more attractive than she’d expected. That didn’t mean she needed to act on it.

“He’s nice,” she said when it became clear that Nix was waiting for something more than a shrug. “Logan seems to really like him, too.”

Nix nudged her with his shoulder. “What makes you say that?”

She slanted a look at him. “Jealous? Afraid Logan may end up liking him more than he likes you?”

“He
can
afford better toys.”

“Logan adores you. But you’re never going to be his daddy.” As soon as the words came out of her mouth, she realized how they sounded. “Not that Dalton can— I mean—”

“Don’t get any ideas about him, Briar.” Nix’s smile faded.

“I haven’t.”

“He’d be damned lucky to have you, of course.”

“Of course.” She smiled, though beneath the humor was a little sting.

“I just think there’s a reason why he’s thirty-seven and still single.”

She blinked. “You think he’s gay?”

Nix shot her a look of amusement. “Should I?”

She thought about that moment in the hall again and shook her head. She hadn’t imagined the way his eyes had darkened when he touched her or the tremble in his fingers. “No, I don’t think so.”

“He was engaged once. A long time ago. Her name was Calinda Morgan.” Nix smiled a distant smile. “Prettiest girl at Ridge County High School. Everybody wanted her, but Dalton Hale was the one she wanted. Everybody thought they’d marry. Then his granddaddy sent him to Harvard Law, while Calinda stayed behind. A couple of years later, she met another guy, broke it off with Hale and got married.”

“Old Pete sent him to Harvard after college? Right about the time Tallie Cumberland and her husband came to town looking for him....”

“I hadn’t thought about it before, but yeah. It would have been right about that time.” Nix shook his head. “All I know is, when Calinda ended things with him, Dalton took it pretty hard.”

“And he’s never been serious with another woman since?”

“Not really. I mean, he dates all the time. He’s forever getting his picture in the paper, and there’s usually some pretty blonde on his arm.”

“Blondes, huh?” She said it lightly, to cover the disconcerting quiver in the pit of her stomach.

Nix tugged one of her dark curls. “Tough luck, Briar Rose. You’ll just have to find some other rich bachelor now.”

She was relieved when they moved on to the topic of Nix’s relationship with Dana Massey. “Things still going well with you two?” she asked.

“Gotta show you something.” He reached into his coat pocket and brought out a small, velvet ring box.

“Oh, my God,” Briar said, her heart rate jumping as she realized what it was. “You’re going to do it, aren’t you? You’re gettin’ hitched!”

“If she says yes.” He flipped open the box to reveal a square-cut diamond set in a simple white-gold band. “It’s small, I know—”

“It’s beautiful. It’s perfect. She’s going to love it!” Briar threw her arms around Nix and gave him a tight hug. “Look at you, steppin’ up!”

He laughed, the happiness transforming his dark face. She realized with quiet wonder that her old friend had become a brand-new man since he met and fell in love with Dana Massey.
That’s how it’s supposed to be,
she thought.
That’s what love’s supposed to do to you.

After almost a decade of marriage, Johnny had still been the same overgrown teenager she’d married. And had she really changed, either?

Maybe their relationship had been doomed from the start.

* * *

“W
HEN
WAS
THE
last time you talked to your father?”

It had taken his mother almost twenty minutes of small talk to get around to her real point for meeting him for lunch, Dalton thought, laying his fork on the table by his plate. “I’m not sure. A few weeks.”

“Four weeks,” she corrected mildly. “He thought you wanted to help him.”

“I did.”

Nina Hale’s eyebrows lifted slightly at his use of the past tense. “I know he hurt you. He hurt me, too. And I can’t even think about what my father did without wanting to cry my eyes out.”

He reached across the restaurant table and touched his mother’s hand. Just a light touch, nothing too maudlin. Not in a public place like the Sequoyah House Tea Room. Sutherlands and Hales didn’t perform for an audience. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not a defense attorney. I prosecute lawbreakers. I can’t defend them.”

“He’s your father.”

He almost snapped out a denial but stopped short, curling his fist around the napkin in his lap. “I secured a very good attorney out of Knoxville. He’s getting the best defense available to him.”

“He doesn’t need the best defense available. He needs his son.”

“Mom—”

“He doesn’t deserve to be cut off from you. He did what he did for you.”

Dalton shook his head. “He did it for himself. For you. Probably for Pete, as well. But he covered up the murder of two people who did nothing wrong. He tried to shoot my—” He stopped short, shocked by the word still lingering in his mind unspoken. “He tried to shoot a deputy U.S. marshal.”

“He didn’t get close to hitting her.”

Dalton stared at his mother. “You don’t fire a gun at a person unless you’re willing to risk hitting them. He may have been relieved she wasn’t hurt, in the end, but he was willing to take the risk that she might be. Don’t defend what he did.”

“He didn’t want to lose you.”

“Mother, I was twenty-one years old when he learned the truth. I was a college graduate, living on my own. How could he lose me at that point?”

“Apparently by making a wrong choice,” she murmured, her voice controlled but the expression in her eyes bleak.

Dalton sighed. “He hasn’t lost me. I will forgive him. I just need time to deal with the betrayal.”

“Betrayal?”

“I trusted him to tell the truth when it was important. And he didn’t.” A cavern-dark bubble of bleak emotion burned his throat. He’d fought so hard to keep from admitting, in front of Doyle or Dana, at least, that he gave any real credence to the story of his origins. All for show, of course. He’d known the first time he’d laid eyes on Dana Massey that his world was already changing. He’d seen the resemblance. Wondered what it meant.

Ultimately, his father’s confession had been a release. An answer to doubts that had played in his head over and over from the first time he looked into a stranger’s eyes and saw his own.

“Did you know I had another brother?” he asked aloud. “Three siblings. After growing up an only child. Lucky me.”

“I would have given you brothers and sisters if I could,” Nina said.

“I know. But I had another brother.” One he’d never met and never would.

“I spoke to Doyle Massey,” Nina said.

Dalton looked at her. “Why?”

“I ran into him in town. He introduced himself.”

“I’ll tell him to leave you alone.”

“I don’t need you to protect me from him. He was polite. And kind.” Nina took a long slow sip of tea and replaced the china cup carefully on its saucer before she continued. “I liked him, actually. He smiles a lot.”

A tearing sensation rippled through his chest. He buried it deep, though he knew it could stay contained only so long. “Why are you telling me this?”

“I understand you’ve brought a woman to your house to live with you.”

Small-town gossip was more efficient than a CIA operation. “She’s a potential witness in a case I’m investigating.”

“She’s a police officer, they say. Is she pretty?”

“It’s business.”

“Is she pretty?” Nina repeated, emphasizing each word.

“Yes.”

“Does that pose a problem for you? Living in the same house?”

“I don’t want to have this conversation.”

“No, I don’t suppose you do.” She took another sip of tea. “It could affect your campaign. Having her there.”

Ah. His campaign manager, Matt Merrick, had run an end around and spoken to his mother. “Did Merry give you any other helpful suggestions to pass along?”

To his surprise, his mother’s lips curved upward around the rim of her teacup. “No, just the one.”

“I’m not sleeping with her,” he said, trying to ignore the memory of Briar’s long toned legs, perfect round breasts and the smell of his bath gel on her warm skin. “She has a three-year-old son, staying there with us. I couldn’t ask for a more efficient chaperone.”

“Her husband died a few months ago. Murdered?”

“Mother.”

“I hate when you call me Mother. It means I’ve disappointed you.”

He closed his eyes briefly. “You told me gossip is an evil. Remember?”

“Well, apparently it’s the only way I get to find out what’s going on with my son these days.”

“Fine.” He pushed away his plate, the food mostly untouched. “I’ll go see Dad.”

“Is she in danger?” she asked, ignoring his offer.

He released a long breath. “Yes. Her son even more so.”

“Are you prepared to protect them? Your last Tae Kwon Do lesson was a while ago.”

He laughed. “She’s a much better shot than I am. In fact, she took me to the firing range for lessons yesterday.”

“You
do
like her,” Nina said with a hint of a smile. “Don’t you?”

“Mom....”

“She’s a Culpepper. I guess by now you’ve heard a few things about the Culpeppers from these parts.”

“Don’t be a snob, Mother.”

She didn’t hide her smile behind her cup that time. “Sweetheart, I’m not the snob of the family. Besides, the Cumberlands had a far worse reputation. Yet I love you beyond distraction.”

He stared across the table at her, surprised both by the stark declaration of his true maternal origins and by her placid delivery of that painful fact. “Did you ever meet my— Did you meet Tallie?”

“I met her in the park one day when you were about a year old. I didn’t know who she was then, of course. I had no idea what your father and grandfather had done. And we’d never seen her before, you see. She’d been a juvenile when she gave birth to you, so they didn’t identify her in the papers or show a photo. But I know it was her. She looked a great deal like your sister, Dana, you know. But younger then. She couldn’t have been more than eighteen at the time.” Nina’s gaze seemed to recede from the present, as if she could see that moment in the past playing out before her eyes. “She was so taken with you. Of course, I was mad about you myself, so it didn’t seem strange that another person would have found you just as captivating.”

“Dana told me that moment was when Tallie decided to stop trying to convince people I was her son,” he said quietly. “She saw how much you loved me. And how much I loved you.
Love,
sweetheart. How much I
love
you. How much you love me.”

“Always.”

To his surprise, she reached over the table and clasped both his hands, squeezing tightly. “Your police officer friend loves her son just as much?”

He nodded. “Every bit as much.”

“Then tell Merry to mind his own business.”

He walked her to her car after lunch, giving her a swift impulsive hug as she started to unlock the door. “Thanks for lunch. I needed it.”

She smiled up at him. “I don’t care what that DNA test says. You’re my son. And I’ll say that to anyone who asks.” Her smile drifted away, her blue eyes growing suddenly serious. “But I would never make you choose between me and your brother and sister. They seem like good people, and they’re no more at fault for what happened than you or I.”

He kissed the top of her head, breathing in deeply the rosewater scent of her, the light floral essence that could take him back to his earliest childhood memories. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The rest of his afternoon seemed to drag, dedicated as it was to catching up on outstanding paperwork before running back through his compiled files on the Wayne Cortland crime organization one more time. He’d promised Briar access to these files, he remembered. He called his secretary, Janet, into his office and asked her to make copies of everything before the end of the day. Janet gave him an odd look but took the files and headed off to do what he’d asked.

Around three-thirty his phone rang. It was Briar. “I thought I’d check to make sure it’s okay to bring Logan by before my shift starts.”

“I’ll be waiting. Be sure to bring plenty of things for him to play with in case I can’t get out of here early.”

“Will do. See you in a bit.” She hung up before he could ask her how her day had been.

He leaned back in his chair and gazed out the large picture window that took up a large portion of his eastern wall. From his third-floor office, he had a stunning view of the Smoky Mountains. Sunlight bathed them in a warm golden glow, though it wouldn’t be long until twilight painted them in cool hues of blue and purple.