Threads of Deceit (Vineyard Quilt Mysteries Book 1) (19 page)

Julie pulled but the man didn’t let go, so she took a sharp step back, bringing the heel of her shoe down on his instep at the same time that she let him pull on her arm, snapping it backward sharply into the man’s stomach. His yelp when she stepped on his foot turned wheezy when her elbow connected with his stomach.

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Julie said. “I didn’t mean to stumble into you. Thanks for the chat.” She spun and hurried from the room.

She was out of the lot and driving down the street before
she noticed her hands were shaking. She decided to stop and have a quiet cup of coffee to regroup. Otherwise her reaction to the first senator was likely to cloud her judgment about the second one.

It didn’t appear that Senator North had any interest in a shipwreck in Straussberg, but his love of guns was possibly worth considering. Julie sighed in frustration. What if Senator Parson wasn’t interested in the shipwreck either? Where would that leave her investigation? She had a handful of people who might be distantly suspicious, but no clear prime suspect. The treasure hunt was back on, and since they didn’t know who killed George, Daniel might well be in danger at the site. She was surprised at how upset she felt about that notion. She couldn’t deny that she was forming some kind of personal attachment to Daniel Franklin. With her history of walking quickly, if not running, from all romantic entanglements, she found it upsetting that she might already be entangled.

A
s she expected, Julie had a bit of a hike from the parking lot to the fountain at the Capitol building. She walked by a group of schoolchildren who stood fidgeting while their teacher lectured them. One little girl turned to look at Julie with a wide smile. She pointed at the Capitol building and asked, “Isn’t it pretty?”

Julie nodded. “Very.”

The little girl seemed to take that as an opportunity to chat. “It’s special too. I did a report.”

Julie looked up at the tall building with its columns and dome. It looked a lot like the U.S. Capitol to her and pretty much exactly what she would have pictured in her mind when she thought of the capitol. “Is that so?”

The child nodded eagerly and switched to a more formal report-giving tone. “The columns don’t use the same leaves as classic columns. They used leaves that grow here in Missouri.” She dropped her voice. “I got an A on my report.”

“Good for you,” Julie whispered back.

She saw the teacher’s gaze turn to her and decided she should continue on before she got the little girl in trouble for chatting with strangers. She thought about the columns as she walked. She would never have noticed that the leaves were special, because she never would have looked that close. It was so easy to overlook important details. Was she doing that with the case?

When she reached the large fountain on the north side of the building, she didn’t see anyone. She stood, looking at
the sprays of water jetting from the mouths of stylized fish being held by chubby cherubs. The largest figures in the pond looked like centaurs, but their rear horse legs blended into a long tail like a mermaid. No wonder the staffer had called it a “weird horse thing.”

Julie wondered what the attraction was for the senator. Maybe he just liked water. She tilted her head to one side as she studied it. Or he could love fishing. Or maybe he saw himself as a blend of different things, like the centaur figures.

She shrugged and it turned into a shiver; the day was becoming colder and grayer. It certainly wasn’t an inviting day to eat outside.

“Miss?”

She turned to face a gangly young man with bad acne. He wore a suit that didn’t quite fit, as if he had hopes of growing into it. When she smiled a question at him, he thrust out a folded piece of paper. “From the senator.” Then he turned and practically ran for the capitol building.

To her surprise, the note addressed her as “Miss Ellis” instead of by the reporter’s name that she’d given the staffer on the phone. The message was short and direct. He knew her cover story of the interview was false and wasn’t going to talk with charlatans looking for a scandal. Then he simply signed his name. She stared at the careful penmanship.
How could he possibly know who I am?

She slipped the note into her blazer pocket and began the short trek back to the car. She wondered if it was significant that Senator Parson had discovered her ruse without even meeting her. Senator North had showed no interest in checking up on her before the meeting. Discovering she wasn’t the reporter would be easy enough. All the senator’s staff had to do was call the magazine. But how did he know her real
name? That was a much more pressing question.

The only person at the capitol likely to know her on sight was the senator’s wife. Technically, she might have caught sight of her and stopped the senator on the way to meeting her. It would only have taken a moment to write the note. But the theory still seemed rather far-fetched.

Julie drove back to the coffee shop to do some quiet thinking before heading back to the inn. The chill that had shaken her at the fountain seemed reluctant to go away, and she knew the coffee would warm her up.

She stared into her coffee cup, pondering whether anything that had happened meant something. She felt as if she were staring at a table full of loose puzzle pieces with no idea of how to begin putting them together.

She startled at the scrape of the chair across from her.

Randall Cantor sat down and blocked her view. “I
demand
to know exactly what kind of scandal you’re trying to involve so many of my clients in.”

She looked at him mildly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You mean you’re not the leggy brunette who’s visited two state senators, the owner of a construction company, and my sick uncle?”

Julie smiled. “You left out Lila Huff.”

His frown darkened into a scowl. “What are you after?”

“You know what I want to know. Who wants the Winkler farm? The answer to that could be the answer to the question of who killed George Benning. Unless, of course, I’m on the wrong trail, and you killed him yourself as a favor to your client.”

He pointed an accusing finger at her. “That’s slander.”

“It’s only slander if someone besides you and I hear it,”
Julie said. “You’re the one who’s getting loud. I’m not interested in scandal, Mr. Cantor. I’m interested in truth. Someone is dead. Hasn’t the time passed for keeping secrets?”

“I’m a lawyer. Keeping my clients’ secrets is part of my job.” He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll bet you had something to do with the break-in at my office.”

She laughed at him. “I’m an innkeeper. Not a cat burglar.”

“Nothing was stolen,” Cantor said. “But suddenly you seem to know the names of many of my clients.”

“I ask a lot of questions.”

“You certainly do.”

They glared at each other silently for a moment. Then Julie asked, “Why does Senator Parson want to buy the Winkler farm?”

The lawyer huffed. “The senator’s family already owns plenty of property down near the borders of Kentucky and Tennessee. I doubt he needs a farm.”

“Maybe he has something against the excavation.”

“As far as I can tell, Senator Parson’s only interest outside his work is fishing. Now if the excavation endangered fishing in Missouri, it might get him worked up. Otherwise, he’s not really the type to go after anyone.”

“Senator North certainly seems to have plenty of interests outside of work,” Julie said.

The lawyer shook his head. “I’m not going to dig dirt with you. Nor do I have time or interest in discussing the private lives of my clients. None of them has any reason to be interested in your boyfriend’s dig.”

With that, Cantor stood up.

“What about your uncle? Could one of his wanderings have brought him all the way to Winkler Farm?”

Cantor slammed his hand down on the table, drawing a sharp look from the patrons around them. He spoke
through clenched teeth. “My uncle is an old, sick man. Leave him alone.”

“He seemed pretty hale and hearty when I met him.”

“Stay away from my family and my clients. If even a whiff of scandal comes my way, I will know the source, and I will deal with it.”

Julie watched the man stalk off, so angry that it made his gait uneven. She smiled slightly. Her day was looking up. She didn’t have any answers, but she was definitely stirring things up. In her experience, the best way to get at the center of any problem was to create ripples along the edges.

On the drive back to the inn, she turned up the radio and tapped the steering wheel in time to the music. She’d chosen the route with the most back roads. She wasn’t in any great hurry to get back to the inn, and less traffic gave her more chance to think.

She passed another sprawling farm. Farmland always looked so ragged in the fall when everything was withering in preparation for winter. She wondered if they’d have a lot of snow. She was used to New York City snow. She suspected life was different in the country.

Julie glanced in her rearview mirror and frowned as a dark SUV rushed up behind her, huddling far too close to her bumper.

“The road’s practically empty, so go around me,” she muttered.

Instead, the SUV continued to tailgate. Julie sped up slightly, uncomfortable with having a vehicle so close behind her. In the countryside, it wasn’t uncommon for an animal to dash out into the road, but the car behind her was giving her no option for braking. It would run right over her if she slowed down suddenly.

Julie rolled down her window and the fall chill rushed into the car. She thrust her arm out and gestured for the SUV to pass. It merely rode her bumper. A tickle of nerves started in Julie’s stomach.

She picked up speed again, her eyes watching for possible turnoffs. She could duck into one of the farm drives and let the SUV continue on its way. But she’d reached a stretch that didn’t offer any options for leaving the road. The shoulders were narrow as well, so if she tried to simply pull off, she’d be driving over someone’s withered cornfield.

Time stretched out as Julie searched for a way off the road. Now and then, she’d glance into the mirror. The SUV’s dark windows gave her no glimpse of the driver. The anonymity made it all the more ominous.

Julie fought the urge to increase speed again and began slowly to ease off the gas instead. The SUV wasn’t going to let her pull ahead, and she didn’t dare lose control. Suddenly, the bigger vehicle darted into the left-hand lane and quickly pulled up beside Julie’s car.

She let up on the gas to slow down so the SUV could complete the pass. Instead, it matched her deceleration, and they continued to ride side by side. At least they could see far ahead down the straight road, so she didn’t have to worry about oncoming traffic. But the emptiness of the road also meant no witnesses for whatever the SUV driver had in mind.

She glanced quickly at the big vehicle. Its dark side window reflected back a blurry copy of her face, and she shuddered at how close the monster was beside her. “Just pass already,” she muttered.

The SUV suddenly swerved toward her, as if trying to get in the lane right on top of Julie’s car. She pounded the horn just before the two vehicles bumped hard. Her car rocked
with the impact, but she kept it on the road.

“You’re out of your mind!” she yelled. Her grip on the steering wheel turned her knuckles white from the effort.

The SUV still didn’t pass. Again it came over on her, harder this time, shoving the car toward the narrow shoulder. Again she managed to ride out the hit. She was desperate to call 911, but she didn’t dare take a hand off the wheel to get her phone. Then the SUV made contact with her again.

This time she couldn’t keep her car on the road. She skidded across the narrow shoulder and barreled into the cornfield beyond. Her car bucked and shuddered as it rode over the rough terrain. The dry cornstalks snapped with a sound like broken bones. Finally, the car jerked to a stop. Julie immediately twisted in the seat to see if the driver of the SUV was still coming after her. The road was clear. The driver had obviously sped on.

Julie sat unmoving, her hands still gripping the steering wheel. She tried to calm her breathing. Her heart continued to pound in her ears. She didn’t doubt for a moment that the driver of the SUV was the same person who had killed George—and whoever it was, he was definitely marking Julie as a prime target.