Waterfront Weddings (65 page)

“I don’t know. It’s been a long time to risk opening that back up to scrutiny.”

Alanna stepped toward Tomkin, intensity pounding through her. “Brendan owes Trevor the truth. He deserved it eleven long years ago, and if you don’t make your son do the right thing, so help me, I will make sure he doesn’t have a choice. Do not tempt me.”

“I don’t know.”

“You have until the studio show. If Brendan doesn’t tell the truth before that, I’ll make sure it’s announced there in a way that nobody will forget.” She studied him and then felt the wave of frustration begin to recede. “Good-bye, Mr. Tomkin.”

When she left, Mr. Tomkin still stood staring across the lake toward Mackinaw City. The burden of lies and fear held him in place. She prayed he could convince Brendan to come clean. The town needed the truth to be revealed. Eleven years of secrets and shadows had layered to the point she wondered how to fully clear them away.

She hurried to Jonathan’s office, eager to share her news, but took her time climbing the stairs, trying to quiet her breathing. The sound of voices in hushed conversation made her pause with her hand on the knob.

N
o matter how he switched his perspective, Jonathan couldn’t see the connection between Mr. Hoffmeister and Grady Cadieux.

Both lived on the island.

Both died.

There had to be more than those two facts connecting them. Until then, he felt stymied to clear Trevor. And without that, no matter how wonderful the event, Trevor would still paint under a cloud with the other island residents.

Guess he needed to ask Tomkin a few questions. The man knew everything about the island and the people who lived here. Maybe he could fill in pieces for Jonathan. First, he’d try Brendan again. The guy must not have his phone with him, because every time he dialed, the call went straight to voice mail. Jonathan left another message.

He dialed the foundation next, and the phone rang to the point Jonathan expected more voice mail then someone picked up. “Hello?”

“Hi, Laura. Is Gerald there?”

“Nope.”

Jonathan frowned when nothing more was said. “Any way to reach him?”

“I’m sure he’s on his cell somewhere. Probably back up on his land staring at the lake. He likes doing that. Boy, he’s popular today.”

“Okay. Well, let him know Jonathan Covington called.”

Her lazy voice waited a beat. “Any reason?”

“Had a question for him about Hoffmeister. And something from a while ago.”

“Grady?” The surprise couldn’t be hidden.

“Yep. Thanks, Laura.” Jonathan hung up. Someone needed to talk to the woman about a professional phone presence. Trevor had given him a date, so the plans for that event were started. He might as well nail down the catering details while he waited for Brendan and Gerald to return his calls. Then he needed to finalize the details for the Morrises’ dinner. The night had all the hallmarks of turning unforgettable. That was exactly what he wanted to accomplish for the special couple.

Time flew as he worked through details and firmed up instructions. His door pounded open, and he glanced up.

Brendan Tomkin stood over Jonathan, a grimace pasted on his mouth. “You couldn’t keep your nose out of the past.”

What was the guy talking about? He didn’t know why Jonathan had asked him to call. “You didn’t need to come by. A call would have worked.”

“No. This is better face-to-face. See, everything was going fine until you and Alanna started poking around.”

“Poking where?”

“The past. You’ll regret that, Covington.” Brendan slipped a gun from his pocket and held it pointed at Jonathan’s gut. “Amazing how everything can be fine for years. Then you and Alanna start poking around. Then Ginger decides she needs more money. Can you believe she left me alone for almost two years? Two good years after all her harassing me for more money. I finally tell her I can’t pay any more, and she agrees. Then her kid needs braces. . .at ten. . .and she decides I should pay for them.” He snorted as if he expected Jonathan to understand.

“So what did you do?” Jonathan studied the gun. Too bad he knew nothing about weapons, preferring a pair of binoculars or rod and pole. Brendan held it steady, with too much competence for Jonathan. It looked like he enjoyed holding it. Knew how to make it work.

“The only thing a fine, upstanding citizen can do. Tell her daddy to get her back in line. It’s not like I can sneak money like I did last time. My dad’s not as sloppy as hers is. My old man wouldn’t even let me play at bookkeeper like Hoffmeister did.”

Jonathan scrambled to make the connections. Brendan embezzled money to pay off Ginger, who was blackmailing him? But blackmailing him why? That important piece of information eluded Jonathan.

Brendan took a step closer, but a movement caught Jonathan’s attention. He glanced toward the door out the corner of his eye. A shadow moved across the frosted glass. He pulled his attention back to Brendan, not wanting the man to realize someone waited.

His cell phone sat in the top drawer of his desk. So far he hadn’t had an opportunity to slip it out or try anything with the computer. Brendan stood vigilant, eyes locked on Jonathan and his movements. He had to try before something happened to him or the person on the other side of the door

“So what did you tell her father?”

“The typical. Get your girl to leave me alone. Had him good and intimidated until your girlfriend interrupted our little powwow.” He snarled. “Then things spun out of control.”

So he killed Hoffmeister. Too bad Jonathan hadn’t had his phone recording that little confession. He raised his voice as he kept his gaze locked on Brendan. “What now?”

Brendan frowned and inched closer to the desk. The gun felt like it sat mere inches from Jonathan’s nose. “I’m tired of talking. You need a lesson in keeping your mouth shut.”

“Did it work for Ginger’s father?”

“What?”

“The lesson?”

Brendan’s lips twisted into a sardonic mask. “Yeah. He won’t be talking again.”

“Mr. Hoffmeister.”

“Who else?”

Jonathan felt a tightening in his middle as if everything coiled in preparation for one stand. He wouldn’t go down without a fight. If Brendan had killed Mr. Hoffmeister, nothing would stop him from killing again. If anything happened, he wanted Alanna to know he’d done his best to spread the truth. He balled his fists and pushed from the chair. Brendan stepped back and smiled without a drip of mirth.

“I wouldn’t come any closer if I were you. See, I have the gun. You. . .don’t.”

“I’m okay with that.” He whistled a moment, enjoying the flummoxed look that crossed Brendan’s face. “How much did you pay Ginger?”

“Doesn’t matter. She won’t get another dime. I made sure of that.”

“Was it close to twenty-five thousand? The amount that disappeared from the foundation’s books?”

Confusion flashed across Brendan’s face. “How do you know?”

“Your dad sent us on a fishing expedition. Didn’t expect to catch you when we started, but it didn’t take long to figure out you had the access and opportunity. What I haven’t figured out is why. What did she have against you anyway?” Just keep him talking. That’s all he could do with that gun pointed squarely at his gut.

“Said her kid was Grady’s. And if she couldn’t have a daddy, I could pay the equivalent of child support since I killed her child’s daddy. Crazy woman thinks I killed Grady. Can’t prove it, but I can’t disprove it either. Everyone knows we weren’t best friends.”

“Why not turn you in if she thought you killed him?”

“Can’t pay from jail. She decided this was better. And it worked until I decided I was done paying. If she wants more, she has to find a new sugar daddy. This bank is closed.”

The door blew open, and Brendan spun toward it. Jonathan felt a sinking sensation when Alanna stepped into the room—alone. “What are you doing?” His voice trembled, and he couldn’t hide it. Didn’t she know to go for help rather than come alone? At least the cops would have weapons. She must have left all her common sense at home.

“Brendan Tomkin.” She didn’t seem surprised to see him. “I just had the most enlightening conversation with your daddy. He’s got it all figured out.”

“Doesn’t matter.” A band of sweat appeared on his forehead.

“I don’t know. The truth has a way of clearing old misunderstandings.”

Brendan’s posture stiffened. Jonathan watched with growing concern. How could he get Alanna out of here before the man decided she was a better target? From her steady gaze, Jonathan had the uneasy sensation she wouldn’t leave. Not easily. She might make this her last stand. If only he knew what Gerald had told her. Maybe something in that would move Brendan.

“Why didn’t you say anything then, when it mattered?” Alanna took another step toward Brendan, and Jonathan shifted. He had to get between them.

Brendan spun toward him. “Stay where you are.” The Beretta pivoted back and forth between Alanna and Jonathan. A faint tremble shook the chunky barrel. “Nothing was supposed to happen.”

“But it did.” Alanna’s voice held steady.

“Trevor could have changed the story but didn’t.”

“True. And something I’ll talk to him about. But you were the upperclassman. He was a sophomore. You should have manned up.”

“I planned to, but then Grady died. I was headed to college on a scholarship. Trevor still had two years of high school. I was an adult. They weren’t going to do anything to Trevor.”

“Other than leave him under a cloud of suspicion.” Alanna crossed her arms and looked down her nose at Brendan. “And you were this big hero.” She shook her head. “You had us all fooled. Somehow you got people to forget you were in the water.”

“I just revised details. Instead of swimming, I dove in to save Grady. Too bad it didn’t work. I thought if people forgot, I’d be clean. Funny, I never felt clean.” He studied the subcompact a moment then raised it toward her head. “Guess now I never will.”

Jonathan stepped away from the desk. “What do you think will happen if you kill us? You disappear and no one figures it out?”

He shrugged. “It’s worked so far.” He waved the gun back at Jonathan. Now to keep it focused there. “Get behind that desk.”

“I don’t like you threatening a woman. Your dispute’s with me.”

“Funny how it’s people I like who keep getting hurt. And the one person I want to hurt is off-limits.” He shook his head. “I’ll take care of her, too. Before she gets braces out of me.” He studied Jonathan. “It’s nothing personal.”

Alanna caught Jonathan’s gaze and tried to communicate something. Too bad they hadn’t spent more time staring into each other’s eyes on the dock, around the island, and in the fudge shops over ice cream. Maybe then he could interpret her message. Instead, he couldn’t decipher what she wanted as she started making small, chopping motions with her chin. His eyes followed the direction of the motion. The window? He made a slight shrug. Hopefully she caught he didn’t understand.

She rolled her eyes. He’d missed that annoying, but ohso-Alanna action.

Brendan twisted slightly as if looking for something. Maybe he wouldn’t find it. Jonathan prayed he wouldn’t, since he had the distinct impression time slipped away. At some point, Brendan would run out of patience.

Grady’s death might have happened, but Brendan could have avoided Mr. Hoffmeister’s. Maybe he didn’t care anymore. After so many deaths, did another couple even register?

Jonathan didn’t want to find out.

Enough waiting to see what happened. He edged another step past the desk. Brendan spun toward him. “Get back.”

Jonathan shook his head. “Nope.”

“I’ve got the gun.”

“You don’t want to use it.” Jonathan raised his hands in front of him.

Brendan lifted his arm, and the gun steadied. “Quite a gamble.” He eyed Jonathan with a hard glint. Then he pivoted to Alanna and cocked the hammer. “Want to test your theory?”

“Nope.” He held up three fingers, and Alanna closed her eyes slowly. He lowered one finger, and Brendan turned toward him. He dropped his hand and tapped his side once, twice. Alanna collapsed, and Jonathan launched at Brendan. The man hit the floor.

Jonathan landed on top of him. Felt the barrel jam his side. Twisted.

He had to move. Now. Before the gun exploded.

Alanna screamed.

“Call. Help.” Jonathan bit the words out.

Brendan jammed the gun deeper. “You should have left this alone.”

Jonathan made a desperate twist. A flame of fire blazed across him as his world exploded.

Jonathan groaned, ears ringing as he slumped to the side.

Alanna.

He had to help her. Couldn’t protect her if the blackness won. He fought the heaviness. It pressed harder.

T
he monster shot Jonathan
.

The thought pounded her even as her ears rang and she braced for him to shoot her. She should move but felt frozen in place, shock warring with impotence.

Clutching her cell phone wouldn’t shield her from a bullet.

Yet as Brendan lunged to his feet, Alanna stared at him, the blood splatter across his shirt choking off her oxygen. Jonathan’s blood.

Her gaze strayed to where he lay still, so pale on the floor. Then bounced back to Brendan. This man wasn’t anything like the kid she remembered from school. The arrogant yet insecure kid had disappeared. In his place stood a monster. A monster with a gun.

The cold steel drew her attention. She had to get out. Now.

She fidgeted with the phone as she backed toward the door.

If she left, would Brendan follow her?

She couldn’t help Jonathan if she waited. The touch screen made it impossible to dial 911 without looking.

“Nowhere to run, Alanna. Not this time.” Brendan’s face twisted into a mask. “You should have stayed away. Left everything alone. She wouldn’t have come back if you hadn’t got her thinking.”

Alanna reached behind her and connected with the doorknob. Just twist it and fly. Fast as she could. Down the stairs. Without tripping. That’s all. Praying that someone in the real-estate office below had called the police.