The Way of Grace (Miller's Creek Novels) (49 page)

“Sorry about earlier. I did
n
’t mean to
get
sentimental
.”
His
words
held no emotion
and
were spoken matter-of-fact
ly
.

The fle
sh along her neck tingled, as though
a
multi-legged insect
crawled along
the surface. Something about the
emotionless comment disturbed her. She
quickly
dismissed the feeling. Everyone handled grief in different ways, or perhaps the calm reserve the British wer
e known for had come into play.

He stood.
“
I should get you
home before it gets any later.
Don’t forget your cell phone.” Jason pointed to the table.

A frown crept onto her face as she
picked up
the phone
and dropped it
into her bag.
“
I could’
ve sworn I put tha
t in my purse
earlier
.”

He l
aughed and moved
closer. “I do the same sort of thing all the time. Yet another
example
of
how much we’re alike
.” He planted the softest of
kisses on her lips.

Part of her heart
m
elted
as she returned the kiss
. What was happening
?
And what about her feelings for Matt?
Confused thoughts clouded her brain.
He’
d left without even saying
good-bye
, and Jason, in so many ways, was what she’d always wanted in a man.
Besides,
he
obviously needed her more. Mat
t would always be, well, Matt—h
appy-go-lucky and carefree as the wind.

Jason pulled away.
“
I definitely need to take you home.” He
tucked her
hand
in his
and led her to the fron
t of the house
.

Soon they were head
ed back to Miller’s Creek, with not a word passing between them.
Strong emotions swirled inside,
but the more Grace strugg
led
to bring them into sharper focus
,
the more twisted
and
irrevocab
l
y knotted they became
.
T
hey
finally
arrived at
her house
, which
now
seemed
downright
dowdy compared to Jason’s lakeside
mansion, and t
he evening
ended
with a polite kiss to her forehead.

Her sleep that night was restless and agitated, her dreams shrouded with intermittent images of both Jason and Matt. She
slept late
the next morning
,
but finally forced herself from the warm covers to fix a pot of coffee
.

Grace
released a sigh
as the machine gurgled. She’d hoped her thoughts would be more cooperative this morning.
If only she could see Matt. He had a way of grou
nding her like no one else
. But wouldn’t that only make things more co
mplicated
?

She
poured
the
aromatic liquid
into her cup, doctore
d it with extra sugar
, and
sipped it as she padd
ed to the bathroom to get ready
for her meeting with Consuela.

At exactly ten o’clock, she parked in front of Elena’s perfect house and made her way up the perfect flagstone walkway to the perfect front door, all the while battling resentment that her former boss had cost her the chance at the same perfection. Maybe Jason would make it possible again.

Consuela answered on the first ring, her eyes glancing
around
furtively. “Come in.” She
didn’t stop at the living room, but
bustl
ed to the back of the house and
out to
a stone
patio overlooking a large pool. W
isps of steam
rose
from the water
into the
frigid
air.
T
he woman
kept walking and didn’t stop
until they reached
a
noisy
waterfall
that flowed into the pool
. She
motioned to two
metal patio
chairs and fasten
ed her
gaze
on Grace
as they sat
. “I don’t have long. Jessie is sleeping and I never know when Elena will choose to come home.”

“Are you in danger
?”

Th
e older woman’s
eyes held fear. “
I believe Elena is involved in something dangerous. That is why I moved us out here. The house may have ears.”

Her breath caught in her chest for a long moment.
So her suspicions had been correct.
“
Any idea what she’s involved in
?”

Consuela shook her head. “I only kn
ow that a man arrived in a
chauffeured car last night. After he left, I went to
check on her, and s
he was crying.” The
woman twisted her hands in her lap.

“What did the man look like?”

“Older.
Wea
lthy.
Powerful.
”

Great, she could have described any number of people. “What can I do to help?”

She reached into the pocket of her apron and withdrew a
jagged slip of yellow paper
. “I found this in Elena’s trash can. She
usually
shreds everything, but
missed
this.
Can you check it for me? I’
d do it myself, but I’m af
raid the house
. .
. ”
Her words
died away as
she glanced toward the house
, the terror in her eyes
more pronounced.

Grace took the
paper and nodded.
A phone number.
“I’ll see what I can do.” She
latched on to
Consuela’s arm to catch her full attention. “Promise me you’ll call if there’s any trouble.”

The woman nodded and stood
, obviously agitated
and nervous
. “You need to go now.”

“
Quick question
.
What
do you know
about Jason Dent?”

Confusion bathed the other woman’s face
in a frown
. “I do not know him.
Now, go!”

Sh
e wasted no time in doing exactly what Consuela said.

20

M
att pul
led the
cell phone
from his pocket
, praying Sandra hadn’t already left for the day.
One phrase Justin
us
ed in their
recent
phone conversat
ion kept nibbling at his brain—
‘
the people
you least suspect.
’

He hurriedly tapped the numbers on the screen of his smartphone
and brought it to his ear
. How many people had he asked about Jason Dent, and they’d all
said
nothing but
good things. And i
n spite of the nagging suspicion in his gut, he’d let their opinion sway his own.

As t
he p
hone rang on the other end,
Matt glanc
ed over his left shoul
der
. The guys
in the band
were still setting up the equipment for
a
Monday night
company Christmas party
and concert
.

“Tyler, Dent, Snodgrass
,
and Rowe, this is Sandra, how may I help you?”
She ran the words together in
one sentence, obviously in a hurry to end the day
and get home to her family
.

“
Hey, Sandra.
Matt
Tyler here
.”

“
Hey
.
If you’re calling to talk to Andy, he’s
not here
at the moment
. May
I help you?”

Pe
rfect. “As a matter of fact, you can
.
I need Jason Dent’
s birth
date
. Can you get i
t for me?”
He held his breath, fearful
she’d ask why.

“Sure. Hang on.”

He released
a
relieved breath. Canned music streamed through
the
phone line
for a few minutes
, but Sandra returned in record time
.
“
May 6
, 1978
.”

“Thanks, Sandra. You’re a doll.”

Matt
powered down his phone
and checked the
band’s progress
. They were s
till setting up
and more than
likely miffed
at him for not
helping
.
It couldn’t be helped, and he had n
o time to explain that t
his was far more important.

He
hurried out the door opposite the stage
and into the alley
where the
investigator
he’d hire
d waited near a smelly dumpster
.
The retired cop had come hi
ghly recommended for his
investigation skills.
He handed
the slip of
paper with Jason’s info to the man. “
This is the guy I need you to research. Goes by
Jason Dent
, and his birthday is May 6, 1978.
He’s
currently
an at
torney in Miller’s Creek
.”

“Got it.”
The wiry man
folded the slip of paper and stuffed it in his wallet.

“Please let me know any information
as soon as you get it, okay?”
Matt made eye contact with the guy
to make sure he got the point.
“
Someone’s life might depend on it.”

A wisp of smoke spiraled from Matt’s mouth into the cold December day as he
watched the man
turn the corner and disappear
from view.
Lord, help him
find
answers
as soon as possible.
An
xiety
once more gnawed on his brain
,
and no matter how hard he tried to quell his runaway thoughts, he
couldn’t.
Last night h
e’d
awakened
in the
wee hours of the morning
, ove
rwhelmed w
ith fear for Gracie.
And even though
Andy
thought
she was fine
, he could no longer ignore his troubled feelings.
He checked his watch and strode to the door.
Time to get inside and do his part.

T
he
evening whizzed by.
As they finished up the last set,
the private investigator enter
ed and took
a seat near the stage. Once the
final song ended
, Matt hurried to where he sat
munching on peanuts and
pulled out a chair.
“Find out anything?”

“Yeah, but I don’t think you’re
gonna
like it. The man supposedly born on the
date
you gave me
doesn’t exist. There are plenty of Jason Dent’s
out there, but none born on that day or liv
ing in
the
Miller’s Creek
area
.”