“For God’s sake.” Lea slid her hand around searching and creating even more mess. Finally, with a huff, she pulled the thin manila envelope that her assistant had given her from the opened armrest. “Could you clean this up while I’m inside? There’s nothing private in the files. Just depositions, so just put them back together as best you can.”
What? She was staying outside?
Lea cocked her head as if she had heard her thoughts and smiled thinly. “Walker doesn’t see anyone she doesn’t know and trust. She’s only gotten worse since her brother died. You didn’t think…”
“No. Of course not.”
But they both knew that she had.
“I shouldn’t be long.”
Nikka stood back by the car, watching the front door open just enough for an older, horse-faced woman to peer around it. As soon as she saw Lea, a wide smile hit the woman’s lips but died just as quickly when she noticed Nikka.
“My ride.” Lea shrugged and slipped in through the opening.
Nikka’s stomach constricted. She had driven two hours and put unnecessary miles on her brand-new car to become the ride? She was going places in this job. She would bet her bottom dollar on it, but apparently not just yet.
Nikka soon crouched in the backseat, her behind up in the air as she rummaged around her car, looking for the run-away files. First, she rescued the one from under the car mat and then another from the back cargo area. How on earth had it gotten there? That girl on the bike should really pay more attention or at the very least have thrown up a wave of apology.
She pulled all the files together and stacked them in a neat pile by the computer. That was all Lea had asked her to do, but curiosity got the better of her, and she pulled the depositions to her. Lea had a new case. Different people’s voices jumped off the pages, telling their stories. An aging pop singer was suing a soft drink company for using an imitation of her voice in a commercial. The question was always the same. Imitation or inspiration?
Nikka bit her thumbnail. Previous cases on voice imitation claims had supported the celebrities, but one of them was up for appeal. If it was overturned, it would be a game changer. Nikka grabbed her to-do list out of her purse and penciled in check on BMW appeal under get cat food and cancel dentist apt. She tapped on the paper with her pencil point. Lea hadn’t asked her to join the case…not yet, at least.
Maggie pedaled up the driveway so furiously that the broccoli, bouncing around in the basket at the back of the bike, almost tumbled out. If she hurried, maybe she could find out why Vivienne wanted her out of the house.
A white Subaru blocked the drive. They almost never had visitors. She’d called it! Something was most definitely up.
She jumped off the bike to walk the last few feet to the car. There was someone in the backseat, messing with papers. Someone not important enough to go inside. Someone like her. Maggie rapped on the window with her knuckles.
The woman inside jumped and dropped whatever was in her hands. She took one look at Maggie and swung the door open, almost hitting her and the bike.
“Hey! Watch it.” Maggie stepped back.
“Seriously?” The woman slid out of the car. “You almost kill me and my boss back in town, and you’re telling me to watch it?”
Maggie glared at her. Who was this lunatic?
That short black skirt and maroon silk blouse screamed corporate office, probably from the City. But she was way too pretty to waste her life away in a cubicle. Dark hair tumbled in thick waves to her shoulders, and her eyes were almost the same color. On second glance, all sorts of different colors gleamed in her irises.
“Sorry? I’m not following you.”
“On the main road back in town. You cut us off. Ring a bell?”
Maggie shook her head. A girl could get lost in those eyes.
“Really? I screeched to a halt. You pedaled away like nothing had happened. I—”
The front door opened with a whoosh, and Lea Truman, wearing a cat-that-ate-the-canary grin, darted outside.
Following Lea onto the doorstep, Vivienne stood almost on top of her.
The pretty woman fell quiet as everyone stared at each other.
Maggie broke the silence first. “Lea, I didn’t know you were coming.”
Vivienne whispered something to Lea that didn’t drift down to the driveway.
“That’s okay. Go inside. I’ll take care of this.” She patted Vivienne on the arm.
Vivienne caressed the place where Lea had touched her and slipped back through the door.
“I see you got the broccoli.” Lea pointed at the basket on Maggie’s bike.
“I did, and I’m glad you’re here. I want to talk to you about Beth.”
Lea glanced at the driver. Maggie did too. Of course Lea would hire a smoking hot assistant. Or had she brought the woman out as a diversionary tactic? She was totally Maggie’s type. Hell, she would be anyone’s type.
“She’s not—” Maggie began.
“Nikka.” Lea came down the steps. “Could you go inside and give this to Vivienne, the woman who just stepped back inside?” She pulled a scrap of paper from her pocket and folded it twice. “Just go into the foyer and call for her.”
“Okay.” A wrinkle formed between Nikka’s brows, then immediately smoothed out. She gingerly grabbed the paper and headed for the door.
Lea waited until the door clicked shut before stepping closer to Maggie. She was a good four inches taller with her overpriced high heels, and she glared down at Maggie. “What’s this about Walker?”
Maggie rose up on her toes to split the difference between them. “She’s not eating lately.”
“Vivienne hasn’t said anything.” Lea smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“For weeks now, my meals come back barely touched. Whether Vivienne has mentioned anything or not, something has changed up there. I’m worried. And you should be too.”
Lea crossed her arms against her chest as her face took on a pinched expression.
Maggie cringed. Dammit. Too assertive. If she wanted to keep her job, she was going to have to tone it down.
“Beth’s an old woman. You know how it is. We’ll get her Boost or Ensure or whatever that nutritional drink is called.” Lea turned away from her. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to get—”
Let her go. There are other ways. But almost without conscious thought, Maggie’s hand shot out to stop Lea’s retreat. “Look. I’m not a nutritionist, I know, but Beth’s not eating enough. And seventy-seven’s not that old.”
“Thank you for caring enough to tell me, but you’re right, you should leave the medical evaluations to Vivienne. The professional.” Lea glared at the hand on her arm.
Suddenly, it wasn’t just about the poor woman tucked away in the depths of the house. It was also about the woman right in front of her. Maggie had never liked a bully. “Is everything on the up and up here?”
Lea raised her eyebrows. “Of course it is.”
Maggie fought back the urge to shake a finger in Lea’s face and demand real answers.
“When I hired you, I thought I expressly stated that you shouldn’t ask why. Are you asking why now?”
Lea was giving her a way out. She absolutely should take it. It would be so much easier to walk away…to not do the right thing. But Maggie had never been one to take the easy path. Why start now?
“Damn right I’m asking why. There’s definitely something going on up there.”
“Well, then…” Lea shrugged. “You’re fired.”
Nikka took in the foyer with one glance. Natural wood and stone ran together, creating an air of permanence and calm. Irises stood tall in a glass vase under a skylight, and a stairway to the second floor opened up on the left.
“Vivienne?” Nikka called softly.
No answer.
Nikka wasn’t an idiot. She knew the folded paper in her hand was probably blank. Lea had sent her away because she wanted to have a private conversation with that luna
tic on the bike. There was so much energy surrounding that girl, she could almost feel it in here.
She had to deliver the paper even if it were a grocery list. But where was Vivienne?
A muffled noise drifted down the stairs. In any other house she wouldn’t trot upstairs uninvited, but this situation left ordinary in the dust. Nikka swallowed hard and headed up, her heels making soft taps on the wooden rungs. “Vivienne?”
Another sound, a cross between a moan and a groan, came from the room at the end of the hall. It was definitely a woman’s voice. Her heart jumped in her chest as she came closer. What the hell was she supposed to do now? She couldn’t barge in.
“Excuse me. Vivienne? Are you in there?” she said for the third time, her hand poised over the door handle.
“Oooh,” the woman cried out.
Nikka couldn’t let that go. She twisted the handle and swung the door open.
In the middle of the room, slumped in an easy chair, was a small woman with snow-white hair and black rim glasses. Wrinkles sagged around her eyes and mouth. She looked far older and much more tired than all the pictures that Nikka had seen in town. But there was no mistaking it. That was, without a doubt, Beth Walker.
The old woman squirmed in the chair and fixed Nikka with a look that seemed to run right through her. “Please, help me…”
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
Beth struggled to get up. She favored her right ankle and immediately lost her balance. “Help me!” She teetered—one arm on the chair, the other stretching out to Nikka.
Nikka rushed forward to grab Beth’s arm before she crashed. Jesus. The poor woman couldn’t have weighed ninety pounds soaking wet. “It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Beth raised her head and met Nikka’s gaze. Behind the glasses her eyes were a deep blue and her pupils were dilated. They latched onto Nikka’s. Her body shook as she struggled to get her words out. “Help me. I have to get out of—”
Vivienne skidded into the room. Her face and neck turned red all at once. “What’s wrong, dear? Are you having trouble getting up? I told you to wait until I came back.” Her tone was sickly sweet until she hissed at Nikka. “Get out. You don’t belong up here.”
“She needed help.”
“That’s why I’m here.” Vivienne drew the words out until they were as sharp as knives. She bent down, wrapped her arms around her patient, and lifted her into a standing position, bumping Nikka away.
“I… I…” Beth opened her mouth, but one quick look from Vivienne made her snap it shut.
“You’re making her upset. You need to go.”
Nikka backed up a step, but her gaze never left Vivienne. Something about all this didn’t feel right. As her father would say, this woman was talking to the right, but looking to the left.
“Ms. Walker? Are you all right?” She tried to find Beth’s eyes.
Vivienne shifted her in her arms and conveniently turned Beth away from the door.
Beth didn’t struggle.
“See, she’s fine. Just the flu.”
As an instant dislike for Vivienne rolled over her, Nikka stood her ground. A little stare-down wasn’t going to spook her.
But a sharp horn, blaring from outside, made her jump. A summons from Lea was a whole other ball game.
“Shit,” Nikka said under her breath. She took another long look at Beth Walker’s back before hurrying from the room.
What had just happened up there? Was Beth Walker asking for help getting out of the chair? Did she really have the flu? Or was it more?
It wasn’t until she slid into the car that she remembered the paper still in her hand. Oh crap! After a quick check to make sure Lea wasn’t watching, she dropped the note to the car’s floor. Please let the paper really be an excuse to get rid of her.
“Let’s get going.” Lea sat calm and cool in the backseat, ready for the trip home. “Traffic’s going to be a bitch.”
Nikka looked around. There was no sign of the woman with the shaggy hair and nice legs. “Right.” She pushed the ignition button and tried to shove the last ten minutes out of her mind.
Even before they had hit the end of the drive, Lea tapped her cell phone. “Hi. It’s me. I got it.” She paused. “Yeah, it’s looking really good. A few things we need to clean up, but yes, very good indeed. We can absolutely move forward.”
Then Lea ended the call, and they rode in silence.
Unlike the trip up, Nikka wasn’t hoping that Lea would engage her in conversation. Lea could have recited the entire US Constitution and its amendments, and Nikka would have only heard the two words that kept circling around in her head.
“Help me.”
CHAPTER 2
February 1960
A small bell jingled as the front door of the Good Neighbor real estate office swung open.
Beth cringed inwardly at her desk. The bell was a happy sound, but its tingling reminded her that her life was not her own. At this moment it belonged to the Thompsons, a plump dentist and his wife from San Francisco, who were looking for a weekend house in the redwoods. She hurriedly slid loose papers of writing into her desk drawer, revealing a folder from the office. On its cover, FERN HOUSE in big, black letters sat over both a photo of a house in a forest and a business card with a golden tooth.
“Yoo-hoo.” A man’s deep voice filled the room. “We’re here!”
The husband and wife standing, no lounging, by the door were most definitely not the dowdy Thompsons. The man—tall, dark and handsome—sported a tie and perfectly tailored pants. He stood next to an elegant blonde with a fresh-scrubbed glow and a crisp, pink seersucker dress.
Wow! Beth almost choked on her own breath. She was a stunner.
The man raised his arm in a wave toward Beth. “We don’t have an appointment, but we were hoping that…”
“Oh my goodness.” Rachel turned out of the kitchenette and skidded to a halt. “You’re James and Dawn Montgomery.”
“We are!” James grinned.
“I’m the office secretary.” She turned to Beth. “Oh my goodness. You didn’t recognize them?”
Beth shook her head. She had been too busy taking in the curve of the woman’s neck for their fame to register.
Dawn shrugged, and even that slight movement overflowed with style. “It’s always better that way. Not to be recognized. We’re just regular people.”
“Are you kidding me? You’re Hollywood royalty! I’ll get Mr. Armstrong, our boss.” Rachel giggled and ran into the back office.
A second later, Hank, tucking in his shirt with one hand, darted into the front room, his other hand already outstretched. “I thought Rachel was pulling my leg, but you really are the Montgomerys. What on earth are you doing in Steelhead Springs? Shouldn’t you both be in Hollywood, filming a movie or something? I’m Hank Armstrong, by the way. I own this place.” He pumped James’s hand repeatedly until James finally had to twist away.
Beth suppressed a smile at Hank’s exuberance and glanced at Dawn, who was staring straight at her. Their gazes met, and Dawn raised her eyebrows slightly as if to say See, I told you so. Better not to be recognized.
Beth gave in to the smile and waited for Dawn to drop her gaze.
She didn’t. In fact, she seemed to be staring deeper into her eyes, as if she wanted to root around in all of Beth’s secrets.
Beth’s heart began to pound. She looked down at the tile floor.
“…driving by and liked the look of the town,” James said.
Dang it. She had missed a whole chunk of the conversation. Heat blazed on Beth’s cheeks.
“Bless my soul. You want to look at houses here? In Steelhead?” Hank’s voice cracked. “But we’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“That’s exactly what we need right now.” James wrapped his arm around Dawn and kissed her on the temple. “Do you have any houses we can look at?”
“Well…” Hank wrung his hands. “We’re a little low on inventory at the moment. How abou
t a nice one-story on the river? It has a huge deck and…”
“No, something a little more private. In the woods, I think.” James glanced around the office and seized on the folder on Beth’s desk. He pointed to the picture of the house. “Something like that. No, exactly like that. We want to look at…Fern House.”
Hank grabbed the folder, slid Dr. Thompson’s business card off the front, and shoved it deep into his pocket. “Just so happens, it’s available. Should we go look at it?”
“Yes, siree.” James was already out the door.
Hank tripped over himself trying to follow. “Call the Thompsons and reschedule.”
“But they’ll be here any—”
“Just take care of it.” Hank waved off Rachel and shut the office door almost in her face.
“How?” Rachel turned to Beth.
“I don’t know.” Beth grabbed the keys with the 741 Fern Drive tag from her desk. “I’ll be right back. He’s going to need these.”
Outside, she silently handed the keys to Hank and pushed down the desire to take one last look at Dawn.
“Maybe your girl could tool out with us?” James stood by his convertible Cadillac El Dorado, leaning casually on one of the car’s huge, red fins. “The missus and I may want to hit the road once we’ve seen the house.”
Hank couldn’t flip his keys fast enough to Beth. “Drive my car out there. Okay?”
“If your girl’s going,” Dawn said, “I’ll ride with her. I’ve had enough wind in my face for one day.”
Beth’s heart jumped in her chest. Dawn wanted to drive with her? She edged over to Hank’s Ford.
James fixed his wife with a look, started to open his mouth, but then seemed to think better of it. “Stay close” was all he said in the end.
Beth slid into the driver’s seat with her gaze riveted to the road ahead. Leaving Rachel to deal with the Thompsons on her own was bad, but she couldn’t remember the last time adventure had come calling. And in the form of a gorgeous Hollywood movie star? She wasn’t about to pass that up.
The two-car procession wound though sleepy streets. Beth tried to see the town from an outsider’s perspective—a wood-clapped drugstore, a post office, and a lumberyard filled with roughly hewn logs. See What We Saw was painted on a homemade sign in the last window.
Heartwood Page 2