Blind Trust

by Sandra Orchard

  He needed her to let him stick close. He needed her to trust him.

  “Catch me, Uncle Tom!”

  He snatched his second nephew from the sky.

  “Wow, that was some catch, Uncle Tom.”

  Tom’s breath caught at the sound of Kate’s voice. The sun glistening off her wavy red locks spilling over her shoulders and her wispy white dress made her look nothing short of angelic.

  “Uncle Tom never lets us fall,” Terry declared solemnly. “You try it.”

  Kate met Tom’s gaze, amusement dancing in her eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

  Tom set his nephew back on his feet, and the boy immediately tore off after his brother. “What are you doing here?”

  Kate jerked back at the unintended edge to his question. “Your sister invited me to the party.”

  He should’ve guessed. Tess and Kate had become fast friends since he’d first introduced them.

  “You can thank me later,” Tess chimed in, setting a train-shaped cake on the picnic table. Leave it to his sister to play matchmaker.

  Kate’s cheeks turned pink. “I’m sorry. I thought you knew.” She took a step backward, clutching a pair of brightly wrapped gifts a little tighter. “I can go.”

  “No.” His heart kicked at the vulnerability shimmering in her eyes, knowing he put it there. “I want you to stay. I just . . . You caught me off guard, that’s all.”

  She chuckled, still sounding apprehensive. “From that catch I just saw, looks like you get a lot of practice.”

  “But you notice I didn’t let him fall.”

  “No.” Her voice grew soft. “You didn’t.”

  Tom relieved her of her packages. “I wouldn’t let you fall either,” he whispered, and her eyes brimmed with a wistfulness that caught at his heart.

  His dad chose that moment to burst out the door with a bellowing welcome, but Tom thought he heard a faint “I know” before Kate ducked her head and turned Dad’s way.

  As Dad introduced Kate to Tess’s husband’s side of the family, Tom let his nephews tug him into a game of tag. Kate seemed to fit right in, chatting with his sister’s relatives as if they were long-lost friends.

  “Are you going to answer that?” Timmy asked.

  Tom blinked and jerked his attention back to his nephew. “What?”

  Timmy pointed to Tom’s hip. “Your phone.”

  Tom swiveled 180 degrees to gain a measure of privacy and held the phone to his ear. “Detective Parker.”

  Dispatch filled him in on the latest piece in their counterfeit puzzle.

  “I’m on my way.” He pocketed his phone and pulled Tess aside. “I’m sorry. I’ve got to go.”

  “What about Kate?”

  Tom checked the urge to say, “She’s your guest.” Truth be told, he appreciated his sister’s little matchmaking scheme . . . this time. “Tell her I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She’d be safer here too, where their retired police officer father could keep an eye on her.

  Six minutes later Tom pulled up to the front of Henry’s Hardware Store on Main Street. A yeasty aroma wafted from the bakery across the road. His stomach grumbled over missing lunch. Unfortunately, his stomach would have to wait a little longer. He pushed through the door of the hardware store and was greeted instead by the unappetizing smell of rubber.

  Behind the counter, Julie Crantz—Kate’s newlywed former roommate—hung up the phone. “That was fast!”

  “I didn’t expect to find you here. That new husband of yours got you working in the family store instead of the library now?”

  “I’m just filling in while they’re off at some hardware exhibition. He promised me I’d have no trouble.”

  Tom chuckled. “Famous last words. Show me what you found.”

  Julie pulled a twenty-dollar bill from the front of the cash register drawer and laid it on the counter. “I have no idea who gave it to me.”

  Tom snapped on a pair of latex gloves and held the bill to the light. Yup, counterfeit.

  “How’s Kate holding up with all of this counterfeit business?” Julie asked.

  “Understandably upset,” he said without glancing up.

  “I’m sure she appreciates that you took the call and not some officer she didn’t know, someone who wouldn’t have been so quick to believe her innocence.”

  Yeah, she had seemed happy to see him at the time. Too bad her faith in him hadn’t lasted. Or maybe it had. His thoughts skittered to Kate’s whispered “I know” and the wistful look that had gripped a place deep inside him and wouldn’t let go.

  He cleared his throat. “When did you notice this was counterfeit?”

  “One of my customers did when I gave it to her as change.”

  “I guess everyone’s on the lookout for them since yesterday’s incident hit the grapevine.” Tom glanced around the empty store. “Any chance you can tell me who made cash purchases today?”

  Julie blew a wayward strand of hair from her eyes. “You’re kidding, right? Saturday is our busiest day. This is the first time we’ve had a lull.”

  “All regulars?”

  “No, there were two or three customers that I didn’t recognize, but no one who looked suspicious.”

  So much for the new lead. He noticed a camera mounted on the wall behind the counter. “Does that work?”

  Julie tracked the direction he pointed. “Yes! I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.” She beckoned him into a narrow cubby and turned on a monitor. “Here we go.”

  The camera had a bird’s-eye view that spanned from the front window and door to the cash register and counter. Julie hit Rewind and images of customers skittered backward across the screen. She hit Pause and pointed to the screen. “There. That’s the woman who alerted me to the counterfeit.” Julie rewound further. “We probably should upgrade to a digital system. These tapes—”

  “Stop there,” Tom ordered. The black-and-white image was grainy, but there was no mistaking Brian Nagy, Verna’s son. Tom hit the Play button and watched the man place some plumbing couplers on the counter and then pull out a bill. He couldn’t make out the denomination. “Did Brian seem nervous to you?”

  Julie squinted at the screen. “Not that I noticed.”

  Tom tapped the Rewind button again and watched as the morning’s customers sped backward through their buying. At the sight of an unfamiliar businessman, he hit Pause and tapped the screen. “Do you recognize him?”

  “Um . . . yeah, he looks familiar. Oh, I remember. I met him in A Cup or Two a while back. I remember because he knew Kate’s mom and commented on their resemblance.”

  The guy on the phone. “Peter?”

  “Yeah, that’s right.”

  Tom squinted at the screen. Could Kate’s caller be the counterfeiter? But if he wanted to blackmail her as she supposed, dropping a phony twenty in the hardware store wouldn’t incriminate her. Still, Tom didn’t believe in coincidences. He forwarded the video a few frames and hit Pause again. He could just make out the form of someone in a plaid shirt and ball cap outside the window behind Peter. The shirt reminded him of the stranger who’d disappeared from the coffee shop yesterday. The guy would have been standing by the barrels where the old-timers played checkers. But his head wasn’t tilted down to watch a game. He seemed to be watching Peter inside the store. A lookout? Or a spy?

  The vice-like grip on Tom’s chest twisted tighter. It was bad enough this Peter guy was likely the person who’d left cryptic messages on Kate’s answering machine. What was he supposed to make of some stranger lurking around town spying on Peter?

  The tinkle of the store’s bell over the door tugged Tom’s attention from the screen.

  Kate rushed toward them, her expression growing brighter as her eyes lit on the screen in front of them. “Did you get the counterfeiter on video?”

  “What are you doing here?” Tom demanded.

  Julie greeted Kate with a hug. “I called her as soon as I got off the phone with dispatch.”
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br />   He should have known.

  “What have you found?” Kate asked.

  Tom’s thumb hovered over the Fast-Forward button. The last thing he wanted to do was fuel Kate’s fear, but he needed to know if she recognized the second guy.

  Before he had a chance to decide how much to reveal, Julie blurted, “So far it could be Brian Nagy—I’ve heard he’s a bit of a gambler.”

  “Really?” Kate shot him an overeager, sounds-like-our-man look. “Or?”

  “Or that Peter guy who knew your mother. You remember him?”

  Kate’s face went chalky white, her gaze clinging to Tom’s. “He was here?”

  Julie’s attention bobbed from Kate to him. “What’s going on?”

  “Nothing you need to worry about.” He could worry enough for all of them. Her supervisor had confirmed last night that a Peter Ratcher was one of their GPC liaisons, and that he was back in town. Tom didn’t believe in coincidences, and the fact that this Peter was here a day after Kate got that anonymous call was too coincidental.

  Apparently Tom failed to disguise his concern, because the curiosity in Julie’s eyes turned to alarm. “Kate?”

  “I had another cryptic message on my machine,” she admitted softly. “We think it might have been Peter.”

  Julie threw her arms around her friend all over again. “I’m so sorry. You should have told me. What can I do?”

  “Let us know immediately if he returns.” Tom waited for Julie to release Kate and then motioned to the tape player. “And I’ll need a copy of this tape.”

  “Just take it. I’ll throw in a new one.”

  Before hitting Eject, Tom tapped the screen at the guy in the ball cap standing outside the window. “Do either of you recognize this guy?”

  Both women shook their heads. “He looks familiar, probably a farmer I’ve seen around town,” Kate ventured. “Why?”

  “He seemed to be monitoring Peter’s movements. I thought he might be able to tell us something.” In light of this potential connection between a GPC employee and the counterfeiting, the presence of the mayor’s son in Kate’s house yesterday looked even more suspicious. Mayor Shephard King had made no secret of how determined he was to attract GPC to their community.

  Tom had to admit that up until now, he’d dismissed Kate’s concerns about GPC Pharmaceuticals as the overactive imagination of a daughter who blamed the company for her father’s death. Now . . . he wasn’t so sure.

  Kate edged her cuff off her watch and glanced surreptitiously at the time as Tom’s nephews oohed and ahhed over a thousand-piece Lego set. There were only three gifts left and still no sign of Tom. She never should have agreed to come back to the party while he tracked down Julie’s customers.

  Hearing that Peter had been one of them had unnerved her a little. The guy knew her darkest secret and had somehow found her unlisted number—probably by sweet-talking it out of one of her co-workers. Who wouldn’t be worried?

  Being accused of counterfeiting had already dredged up too many uncomfortable feelings.

  Laughter broke out among Tom’s relatives gathered around the twins in a circle of lawn chairs. Kate propped up her smile and tried to focus on the rambunctious pair tearing into another gift. She couldn’t think of a single good reason why Peter would want to talk to her, but there were plenty of bad ones, starting with blackmail.

  If there was one thing Mom had drilled into her, it was to never talk about Dad or mention their former last name. Kate instinctively smoothed the skirt of her dress, ensuring the proper impression she’d been programmed to project. But if Dad hadn’t done anything wrong, as Mom had always insisted, why should they hide? Why hadn’t they challenged the police department’s treatment of her father?

  If Peter knew Dad, maybe he knew what really happened. Her heart somersaulted at the thought. Just when she’d finally scrounged up the courage to search out the answer, she’d avoided the one person who might have it.

  She sprang to her feet.

  Tess caught her arm. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m sorry. I have to go. I just remembered somewhere I need to be.” If Peter tried to contact her again, it would be at her home. And this time she wanted to be there.

  “But . . .” Tess’s gaze trailed to her father before veering back to Kate. “Tom didn’t want you to go home alone.”

  “That’s because I was upset, but I’m fine now.” Kate gave her a hug. “Thanks so much for inviting me. It’s been fun.”

  Tess wavered. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Ten minutes later, as Kate pulled her yellow Bug into Daisy’s driveway—her driveway now—a smidge of that confidence slipped. She glanced around the neighborhood and her stomach flip-flopped. Get over it already. It’s not as if you’re ten years old anymore and going to shatter over being called names. What is there really to be afraid of?

  Even if Peter threatened to expose her secret, would it really be that bad?

  The image of Mom’s haunted expression flared before Kate’s eyes as her “no one can ever know” whispered through her mind. Kate shook the voice from her head and snatched her keys from the ignition. Know what? That’s what she wanted to know. She’d kept her head down for too long already.

  Brian Nagy’s red sports car sat in Verna’s driveway next door.

  Kate hitched her purse up her shoulder, digging her fingers into the strap. The pleasant August afternoon suddenly felt a little too sticky. Brian never came by two days in a row. Something must be wrong with Verna again. He might need help. Kate strode toward Verna’s house.

  At the property edge her step faltered. What if Brian was there to get rid of evidence?

  She should call Tom. He was probably looking for Brian right now to question him about his visit to the hardware store. Kate turned back and dug her phone from her purse. Except . . .

  What if Brian was here because Verna had taken another bad turn? Tom showing up again would only upset her more.

  Phone in hand, Kate eyeballed Verna’s front door. She could pop over on the pretense of checking on Verna like any good neighbor would. If she happened to notice Brian up to no good, then she could call Tom. She zipped her phone in her purse and strode to Verna’s door before she could change her mind a second time.

  “Come in,” Verna called at Kate’s knock, sounding as chipper as ever.

  Kate’s heart thumped an erratic beat. Where was Brian?

  She let herself in, cocking an ear toward the basement for any telltale sounds. She might be able to warn Tom before Brian even knew she was here.

  Verna was pushing herself up from her recliner as Kate poked her head into the living room.

  “Oh, it’s you, dear.” Verna relaxed her arms and let herself drop back into the chair.

  “How are you feeling today?” Kate hovered at the doorway where she could keep both the basement stairs and the hallway leading to the bedrooms in view. A spicy aroma hung in the air. Verna must’ve been baking.

  The woman made a so-so gesture. “Water’s giving me trouble.”

  “Water?”

  Brian suddenly materialized in the hallway, a monkey wrench in hand, undisguised irritation creasing his face. “Oh, it’s you.” The lines slashing his brow rearranged themselves into a semblance of . . . gratitude? “I want to thank you. My son told me how you settled Mother down yesterday during one of her episodes.”

  “Episodes? This has happened before?”

  “Unfortunately.” He bent down and pulled a P-trap from a small paper bag. That must’ve been what Verna had meant about her water and what Brian had been at the hardware store to buy. “But don’t worry, she’s signed a power of attorney granting me the right to act on her behalf. I’m going to make sure she gets the help she needs, whether she wants it or not.”

  Behind Kate, Verna let out a soft humph.

  Kate’s heart ached at the thought of Verna being put into a home, but after yesterday, she had to agre
e that the dear needed some kind of help. “I imagine that’ll take some time.”

  Brian lowered his voice. “She’s been on the waiting list for a while. But between the counterfeit money swindle and now this, they can’t help but see how necessary it’s become.”

  At the mention of the counterfeit money, Kate’s thoughts whirled back to her earlier suspicions. Was Brian overreacting to Verna’s “episode” to divert suspicion from the family? Was he the one running a counterfeit operation and using his mother as a front? “What if she still refuses to go?”

  “I’d have to apply for guardianship. I was hoping I could count on you to testify to her need for care . . . if I have a problem, I mean.”

  “Oh, I don’t think I . . .” Wringing her hands, Kate glanced into the front room where Verna still sat. “I couldn’t do that to her.”

  Brian stepped closer, the monkey wrench still clutched in his hand. “But now that you’ve seen how she gets, how can you not?” His knuckles whitened, and he seemed to be straining to keep his voice even. “She’s not safe. I only want what’s best for her.”

  “I’m sure you do.” Kate backed up a step and shifted from one foot to the other. His concern seemed genuine, but that didn’t stop her insides from zigzagging up and down like a roller coaster. “I’m sorry. I don’t feel comfortable doing that. I’d feel like I was betraying our friendship.”

  “You’ve only lived here a few weeks,” he argued.

  “Exactly. So who am I to comment on her condition?” She wiped the ridiculous sweat from her palm on the side of her purse. “Couldn’t you hire someone to live in?”

  “I have. Lucetta agreed to stay with Mom until a room opens up at the home in town.”

  Kate swallowed her gasp, but not soon enough.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Um . . . Nothing, except . . . It’s just . . . I was thinking more of someone trained as a caregiver.” Lucetta had already sold the tea set. Kate cringed to think what other ways she might take advantage of Verna’s generosity. “I’m sure they’ll get along okay.” Kate bit her lip. If Verna were her mother, she’d want to know what Lucetta had done, but “loose lips sink ships,” as her grandmother used to say, and between the birthday party and the excursion to the hardware store, she hadn’t gotten the chance to ask Tom if he’d questioned Lucetta yet. “She’ll stay at the house?”