Blind Trust

by Sandra Orchard

  She averted her gaze, fussed with the edge of a placemat on the kitchen table. “I don’t even remember Dad being away before his arrest.”

  “You think Peter’s lying about the whole thing?”

  She snatched up a spray bottle and spritzed the ferns hanging by the patio door. “I don’t know what to think.” The wobble in her voice told him that Peter’s story gnawed at her more than she wanted to let on. “When I combed old newspapers looking for information on my dad, I didn’t come across anything about stolen plants. If the plants were as remarkable as Peter said, I’m sure the research community, at the very least, would have heard more about them in the last twenty years.”

  “There was a lot of upheaval in that area at the time. The political situation could’ve prevented a team from going back.”

  “Can’t you talk to the arresting officers? Find out if my dad accused GPC of anything?”

  Tom’s heart clenched at the hopeful gleam in Kate’s eyes. “There was no record in the system, Kate. The station he was taken to relocated last year. A lot of their records never made the move. I wouldn’t know who to ask for. Even if I did, they’d probably be retired by now.”

  She slapped the spray bottle down on the table. “My father died in police custody. Someone’s got to remember who brought him in.” Her voice cracked.

  Tom closed the distance between them. “You may not like what they have to say.”

  “My last memory of my dad is of him being hauled away in a police car. I want to know the truth.”

  He caught her hand and tilted his head to catch her eye. “But what if the truth isn’t what you were hoping for?”

  “At least I’ll know.”

  He nodded, impressed once again by her determination. “It’s possible that GPC Pharmaceuticals already knows who you are and is using Peter to scare you out of opposing them.”

  “By telling me they’re corrupt?” The exasperation in her voice left no doubt how ludicrous that possibility sounded.

  Tom shook his head. “By filling your mind with conspiracy theories, they could hope to marginalize you, convince any of the directors who might be swayed by your concerns that you’re grasping at straws in a desperate attempt to avenge your father’s death.”

  She jerked her hand from his clasp. “Is that what you think?”

  He clamped his fingers around the top of the nearest kitchen chair and drew a deep breath. “Isn’t your father’s experience with GPC a big part of the reason you’re opposed to their move here?”

  A muscle in her jaw pulsed, confirming that he’d hit a nerve.

  Not that he wanted to upset her. He was beginning to think there might be some validity to her concerns.

  Monday morning Kate arrived at the research station before anyone else. She couldn’t sleep. Or at least, she couldn’t sleep without having nightmares. Every time she’d closed her eyes, she would see her dad wave from the window of a plane. Then she’d turn from the plane taxiing down the runway and step inside the airport, which morphed into a lab.

  She swiped her fob over the electronic lock at the back entrance and stepped inside, pulling the door closed behind her. The squeak of her sneakers on the polished floor sent chills down her neck. She picked up her pace.

  Overhead, the air vents groaned, and she nearly jumped out of her skin.

  Okay, this was crazy. It was just the dream making her jumpy. She’d have to make herself some lavender tea before she got started. That should help soothe her nerves. She turned her key in the door to her lab and her mind reeled back to last night’s dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.

  Every time she’d pushed through the lab door, her gaze had been drawn to plants at the window. She’d rushed toward them, thinking they were her father’s. But just before she reached them, the room would explode into flames, and she’d wake up screaming.

  Her palm was slick against the doorknob as she pushed open the door. The room was dark. The curtains drawn. Her gaze flicked to the table in front of the window. The only plants there were herbs they were using for their extractions. She let out a breath.

  “What did you expect?” she scolded herself. Now that she’d put her silly imaginings to rest, maybe she could get some work done. She slipped into her office, adjacent to the lab, and turned on her computer.

  The internet had been in its infancy when Dad died twenty years ago, but lots of universities had been connected. If she could figure out which university was doing the research that her father went to investigate, she might be able to figure out what got him all fired up against GPC Pharmaceuticals.

  You’re grasping at straws.

  Kate shut out Tom’s voice and clicked on her favorite search engine. She experimented with a variety of search words, but the number of potential hits was overwhelming. After scrolling through ten pages of results she clicked on a link that looked promising.

  Nope, not even close.

  A loud clunk sounded from the other room.

  She glanced at the time at the bottom of the computer screen. No one should be here yet. No one could get into the building without a security pass, she reminded herself.

  But the reminder didn’t calm her racing pulse.

  Her gaze flailed around the room for something to use as a weapon . . . just in case. She grabbed the paperweight decorating the corner of her desk and edged to the door. Taking a deep breath, she poked her head around the corner. “Patti?”

  Her research assistant jumped, spilling coffee over the side of her hand. Crying out, she dropped a stack of files onto the workbench and lurched for the lab sink.

  “I’m so sorry.” Kate let go of her would-be weapon and grabbed a fistful of paper towels. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

  “You didn’t. I mean, I knew you were here. I saw your car in the back lot.” Patti dabbed at the splatters on her trendy, gold-trimmed jacket. “I guess I’m still jumpy from that cop surprising me at your house.”

  Remembering Tom’s suspicions of Patti, or more particularly of her boyfriend Jarrett, Kate eyed the files Patti came in with. “What are you doing here so early?”

  “I found discrepancies in the data you sent me. I wanted to run a couple more tests.”

  “Oh.” Kate leafed through the pages to the flagged results and nodded. “Good catch.”

  “May I ask why you are so opposed to GPC partnering with the research station?”

  “What?” Kate handed back the file. Why hadn’t she noticed the subtle changes in Patti over the past few weeks? The new clothes, the thicker makeup, the funky new glasses. Changes to please her new boyfriend, no doubt. What else might she do to please him?

  Kate gathered the beakers and test tubes she’d need for her next experiment. “I have my reasons.”

  “A lot of people think their coming here would be a good thing. They’d bring more jobs to the area, more housing starts for the researchers who move here, more money for local businesses.”

  “Is that what Jarrett told you?”

  Patti’s finger traced the rim of her coffee cup. “His dad, actually.” She gulped down what was left of her coffee and tossed the cup into the trash. “I know you don’t like him. But he makes a lot of good points.”

  “I like him just fine. I simply disagree with him.”

  “But—”

  “Look, Patti, I have no desire to interfere with who you see outside the lab. Just don’t let it interfere with your work here. Understand?”

  Patti nodded, but the grim slant of her mouth said she wasn’t happy about it. If Patti were dating anyone but Jarrett, Kate probably wouldn’t have hesitated to share her reasons for opposing GPC’s move. Unfortunately, she was dating the mayor’s son, which meant Kate needed to watch what she said around her assistant.

  Kate grabbed her lab coat from the wall hook. She hated that she’d become so easily suspicious of people since her mentor’s murder, but the fact that a seemingly nice girl like Molly Gilmore could poison someone without any qua
lms proved to her just how guarded she needed to be. Patti might not intentionally divulge confidential information to her boyfriend, and by extension his very powerful father, but Kate had no doubt that the mayor would take advantage of Patti’s employment to glean any inside information he could.

  She shut down her web browser before Patti became curious about her web search too.

  By 3:00 Kate’s sleepless night had caught up to her. She turned on the gas, then took too long to light the match. The gas ignited in a whoosh.

  “Go home,” Patti said. “Before you blow us up. You’re dead on your feet.”

  Kate fumbled her test tube at her assistant’s choice of words—too unnerving a reminder of last night’s dream. Gathering the broken shards, she stifled a yawn.

  Okay, maybe Patti had a point. “You’re right. I’ll finish this tomorrow.”

  Kate arrived home shortly after 3:00, alarmed to find Lucetta lugging a suitcase from Verna’s house. Had Verna given her something else that Lucetta planned to sell instead of to treasure as Verna intended?

  Kate pocketed her car keys and cut across the lawn. “You leaving?”

  Lucetta glanced up, tears in her eyes.

  “What’s wrong? Did something happen to Verna?”

  Lucetta dropped the handle of her suitcase and swiped at her eyes with a tissue. “Mr. Nagy put señora in a home.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Kate’s heart ached for the dear woman. “I never imagined he’d manage to make arrangements this quickly.” If only she’d tried harder to reason with Brian on Saturday, to ward off such a drastic move.

  “She act crazy this morning. See things that not there.”

  “Oh no. Not again.” What if Tom had been right and she did have a brain tumor or something?

  “The ambulance take her to hospital,” Lucetta went on, between scrubbing at her eyes. “Mr. Nagy said now that she critical the home have to give her a room.”

  “Surely he wanted the doctor to run tests first.” How could Brian think of sending her to a home before finding out what was causing the behavior changes?

  Lucetta crushed the tissue in her hand and reached for her suitcase once more. “All I know, he say she won’t be back.”

  Kate’s pulse quickened. Verna must be really bad, because she couldn’t imagine the dear woman going into a home without a fuss.

  Verna’s cat twined around her legs. Kate lifted him into her arms and cuddled him against her chest. “What’s to become of Whiskers?”

  Lucetta shrugged. “Cats no allowed at the home. And Mr. Nagy never liked.”

  As if Whiskers understood, he let out a pitiful mew. Kate stroked his fur. “Don’t worry, fella. You can stay with me.” Kate jutted her chin toward Lucetta’s suitcase. “How are you getting home? Did you need a ride?”

  “No, my nephew come.” Lucetta’s gaze slid away as if she suddenly felt self-conscious.

  Did she know that Tom hadn’t been able to locate Pedro all weekend? Maybe he hadn’t yet today either. Kate’s fingers itched to text him a quick alert.

  “You have Verna’s spare house key still?” Lucetta asked. “So you get food for cat.”

  “Uh . . .” Kate took a second to register what she’d said, then used the question as an excuse to rummage through her purse. She dropped Whiskers to the ground and pretended to scrounge around in her purse as she thumbed a brief text to Tom from her phone. As soon as she hit Send, she shook her head. “I’m sure I do have the key, but it must be inside.”

  “If don’t find, I be here tomorrow to clean.” Lucetta let out a ragged breath. “After that Mr. Nagy probably let me go.”

  Kate felt sorry for the woman. With everybody cutting back on their expenses, she’d have a tough time finding more work. “If I hear of anyone looking for a housekeeper, I’ll let you know,” she heard herself say, even though in good conscience she’d have difficulty recommending her. For all she knew, the woman was a counterfeiter or aiding and abetting one.

  Then again, maybe she should invite Lucetta to help clean her walls and ceilings in preparation for some painting she’d been thinking of doing. Might give her more opportunity to uncover who Lucetta might be protecting.

  A rusted gray-blue pickup rattled down the street and swerved into the Nagy driveway. Herbs Are Us was painted on the door with half of the letters flaked off, leaving only a ghost of the letters. Pedro, his dark hair slicked back, jumped from the driver’s seat, wearing torn jeans and a dusty T-shirt. His gaze collided with Kate’s, and his step faltered. He reached for Lucetta’s bag. “This it, Aunt Luce? ’Cause the boss wants the truck right back.”

  Kate squinted against the sun and studied the boy’s rigid jaw. Did he know who she was? Was that the real reason he was in such a hurry?

  Somehow she needed to stall him until Tom got here . . . if he was coming. “Uh, you wouldn’t happen to have change for a twenty, would you?” Kate asked, hoping to get a glimpse into his wallet.

  Pedro reached toward the bulge in his back pocket. He didn’t look the least bit suspicious of her motive. In fact, he seemed eager to help—which made perfect sense if he was about to give her phony money for her twenty bucks. But then he must not realize her connection to the counterfeit investigation.

  Lucetta snapped open the handbag dangling from her arm and an instant later, thrust four fives into Kate’s hand.

  Pedro scowled at his aunt but returned his wallet to his pocket without comment.

  “Thank you.” Kate barely glanced at the money as she tucked it into a separate compartment of her purse so Tom could check it out when he arrived. “Um, it was nice of your boss to let you borrow the truck,” she said, trying a different tactic to stall for time. “I imagine most of the migrant workers don’t have driver’s licenses that allow them to drive anything but farm equipment on the roads.”

  Pedro tossed Lucetta’s suitcase into the truck’s bed.

  “Pedro have license,” Lucetta said, although she didn’t sound all that certain. She shot Pedro a look of alarm. Clearly she hadn’t realized that Pedro’s use of the truck might not be legal. But from the way she’d dashed the change for a twenty into Kate’s hands, as if to stop her nephew from incriminating himself, Lucetta shouldn’t be surprised.

  Tom crossed another name off the list that his contact had given him and punched the phone number of the next person into his desk phone. Next to it, his cell phone vibrated, skidding into his empty coffee cup. He stacked the cup into the other three, but at the sight of Kate’s name, dropped them in place and snatched up his cell phone. Text message.

  He dropped the desk phone back into its cradle and clicked open the message: “Pedro here. Come quick.”

  Tom raced out of the police station, tapping Kate’s number on his cell phone at the same time. Had the kid threatened her? His temper flared. If the kid laid a hand on—

  The call rolled over to voice mail. “Kate, I’m on my way.”

  As he slid behind the wheel of his car, he realized he didn’t know where she was. Pedro must’ve shown up at her work. Except the kid couldn’t be that stupid. The security at the building was tight. He couldn’t have just waltzed in. Kate must’ve gone home early. Unless she’d spotted him outside and was hiding in her lab.

  He put a call in to dispatch. “Patch me through to the research station.”

  When he’d stopped by Herbs Are Us this morning, the kid had been polite and cooperative. When Tom asked to see the cash in his wallet, the kid had obliged without hesitation. Of course, his billfold had been empty.

  “Go ahead,” the dispatcher said a second before the call clicked over.

  “Yes, I’m calling for Kate Adams. I don’t know her extension.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, Miss Adams has left for the day,” the receptionist responded.

  “Do you know how long ago that was?”

  “Twenty minutes perhaps.”

  “Thanks.” Tom cranked the wheel a hard left and pulled a U-turn. Three minutes later h
e crawled down Kate’s street so as not to scare the kid into running. When he caught sight of Kate’s yellow Bug in the driveway, his heart settled back into a steady rhythm. At least he had the right location.

  As he stepped out of his car, she emerged from behind her neighbor’s house, head down, expression somber, carrying Verna’s cat and a bag of food.

  He hurried toward her. “What’s going on? Is Pedro still here?”

  Her attention snapped to him, and the smile that flitted across her lips jogged his heart into a whole other orbit. “No, sorry, I should have called you back. Have you questioned him yet?”

  “Questioned?” Tom gave his head a mental shake. “Yes, this morning.” He let his gaze travel over Kate until he’d satisfied himself that she was okay. “Did he threaten you?”

  “No, nothing like that. He was picking up Lucetta was all.” Kate rested the cat food bag on her hip. “How’d he respond to your questions?”

  Tom relieved her of the bag. “His aunt had obviously filled him in. He was apologetic about giving my sister phony money. Even asked if he needed to give her good bills.”

  “Did you believe him?”

  Tom hesitated.

  Kate tilted her head, one eye narrowing. “What aren’t you telling me?”

  “He said he got the money from Verna, for hauling junk to the dump.”

  Kate frowned. “You can’t still think she’s a counterfeiter? Her son put her in a nursing home today.”

  “That was fast.” Tom scratched the cat’s neck. “You volunteer to watch the cat?”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re okay? Your message sounded like you felt threatened.”

  That heart-jogging smile slid across her lips again. “Were you worried?”

  He made a face. “What do you think?”

  “I think I like it.”

  He blinked. “Huh?”

  “That you care enough to worry about me.” She nuzzled her cheek against the top of the cat’s head.

  Speechless, he stroked his thumb along her jaw. He hadn’t thought about how lonely it would be to have no family to turn to in a crisis. To have no roommate to wonder where she was when she didn’t come home, as her friend Julie used to. A yearning to be that person swelled in his chest.