Dangerous Secrets

by Lyn Cote

  “From what Tanya said, I take it that she went alone and began ransacking the apartment and then had a bad LSD flashback.”

  Sylvie laced her fingers into his hair and, lifting her head, pulled his lips down to meet hers—once—lightly. She inhaled, laying her head back down.

  Ridge continued, “Your cousin must have come home during her search. They might have struggled. But I don’t think that Tanya killed her.”

  “I think Jim must’ve done it. He told me…he told me he hadn’t wanted to hurt my cousin. But Ginger would have fought him. She was feisty like that.” Sylvie’s face twisted in pain.

  Ridge kissed her again, and smoothed his hand over her face. If only he could pluck these hard memories from her mind. He fingered her silky hair again. “Anyway, neither of them found the ticket.” And Leahy left Tanya to think that she had killed Ginger. Yeah, a real nice guy. Ridge found himself clenching his jaw and made himself relax.

  Sylvie turned her face toward him again and began to sit up, moving against him. “Why did they take the computers? Ginger’s laptop and my PC?”

  Ridge shook his head. “Maybe to pawn. Or maybe they just wanted to use them. They haven’t searched Leahy’s place thoroughly yet.”

  The phone rang in the other room. Ridge hoped it would be nothing that would disturb his sitting here, holding Sylvie and stroking her hair. He would be happy to stay like this for the rest of his life.

  The door to the kitchen opened. Milo held the phone receiver in his hand. “I’m so sorry to bother you two, but it’s Ollie. He apologized for calling. It’s about that winning lottery ticket. If we could find it today and turn it in, it would mean a lot of money for him. It has to be turned in no later than midnight or it expires.”

  Sylvie had no choice. She sat up completely and pushed her hair back from her face. “Tell him—”

  Ridge interrupted her. “Do you know where Ginger’s hiding place is?”

  Sylvie nodded wearily. Suddenly chilled, she leaned against Ridge, seeking his warmth. “Yes, it just came to me again. I remembered it when Jim threatened me. I think it’s at her apartment over my shop.”

  “But we’ve asked you over and over if you knew of any hiding places in any of the homes that have been broken into,” Ridge objected.

  “It just came to me when Jim was questioning me….” She leaned her head into the crook of his neck, feeling the stubble on his chin rasp her cheek. “It was like a lightbulb going on in my head. I’d forgotten it. We were just kids the last time Ginger used that hiding place or at least I thought it had been way over ten years. Do you think that drug might have helped me remember?”

  Milo spoke up, “No. Maybe you weren’t supposed to remember until now.”

  Her father’s words moved her to action. “I’ll get some socks and shoes on and then we can go over to the apartment.” Sylvie pushed herself up from the couch, leaving Ridge’s warmth, and limped toward her bedroom.

  Ridge followed her. “Are you sure you’re up to doing this?”

  She pulled open her sock drawer and began rummaging in it for a warm pair. “I’ll have to be, won’t I? Ollie is a good man. And he has Tanya to take care of, too. The bad shape she’s in, she will need a lot of help to get better. And that kind of help is really pricey.” She found a pair of wool socks and shut the drawer.

  Ridge turned her away from the dresser and wrapped his arms around her, holding her very close. “I hope you realize that I never intend to let you go.”

  She felt his lips move against her ear. The contact electrified her.

  “I love you, Sylvie. Will you marry me?”

  “You love me?” She looked up into his dark eyes, which gazed into hers directly and honestly. She read them with ease.

  “I love you deeply. And completely. I understand that now. I understand how much now.” He kissed her forehead. “You were right to refuse my proposal. I had been living so many years just to do my job that I had forgotten how to feel like a person, like a man in love. But when I thought I might lose you, everything became very clear in my mind. Does that make sense?”

  She believed him and smiled. They’d come through this trial together. “No more marriage of convenience?” She ran her finger down the bridge of his nose, teasing him.

  He didn’t answer her with words, but with a kiss that left her limp in his arms.

  She kissed him once in return—just to be polite. She chuckled silently and then said, “I’ll marry you, Ridge. Now help me find my shoes.” She rubbed noses with him.

  He chuckled aloud, suddenly feeling lighter, more buoyant than he had for years.

  Sylvie sat on the end of her bed and began pulling on thick wool socks. Ridge went to her closet and picked up the first pair of shoes he saw, a pair of purple high heels. “How about these?”

  She threw her pillow at him and then they were both laughing. And kissing.

  After a short drive, Sylvie and Ridge walked up the snowy, wet path to the rear entrance of Sylvie’s shop.

  Ollie was there waiting for them, his collar turned up against the wind. “I really appreciate this, Sylvie. I’m so sorry to bother you after all you’ve been through in the last twenty-four hours.” Words poured from the normally taciturn man. “I heard about Ginger buying the winning lottery ticket last fall. I can’t help feeling guilty about this. But I get a lot of business selling lottery tickets. And if I didn’t sell them, people would just go elsewhere to buy them.”

  Sylvie unlocked the door and switched on the lights. “None of this is your fault, Ollie. No one forced Ginger to buy that lottery ticket. And no one forced Jim Leahy to try to steal it.” She left unsaid: Or your granddaughter Tanya.

  Trying to blot out the memory of finding Ginger’s body here, she averted her eyes as she led the two men inside and up the stairs. There, she pointed upward at the ceiling. “Ridge, would you pull down that trap door.” He did as she asked. And then she climbed up the narrow steps that had come down with the trap door. Light shone from below, illuminating the attic where most of Ginger’s things remained. Sylvie asked herself the question again—why hadn’t the old hiding place occurred to her when she was here with her father? The only answer was that she must have been too upset, grieving and too confused to think of it then.

  Stooped over, she went to one of the boards in the old plank ceiling and pushed on it. It slid about two inches. Down fluttered many, many lottery tickets. Sylvie reached into the small space to make sure that she had gotten every one and found a couple more lottery tickets wedged in a crack. When the cleverly constructed cubbyhole was completely bare, she scooped them all up and carried them down the steps to the small kitchen table. “It wasn’t just one.” She spread them out to be inspected. Ridge hovered at her elbow, his concern for her palpable.

  “I brought the winning numbers with me,” Ollie said, pulling a slip of paper from his breast pocket and reading off the numbers.

  Sylvie looked at one of the tickets still in her hand and said with a jolt of surprise, “I have it here.”

  “So do I.” Ridge had picked up another ticket and now waved it.

  Sylvie glanced at the ticket, leaning against his arm and then looked at the others. “Ginger must have played the same numbers over and over.”

  “A lot of people do that,” Ollie said. “That must have been how she knew she won. She read about the uncollected prize and recognized the numbers as the ones she always played.”

  “What is the date we’re looking for, Ollie?” Ridge asked.

  “October 27 of last year.”

  The three of them quickly searched through the many tickets. Sylvie stayed close to Ridge. His presence gave her the strength to deal with this heartbreaking chore.

  “Here it is,” Ridge said, holding out the lottery ticket to Ollie. “This one is dated October 27.”

  Ollie let out a whoop and snatched the ticket from Ridge’s hand.

  “Just a minute,” Ridge cautioned. “I don’t think it has a
ll those numbers. Check it.”

  Ollie cursed softly. “Sorry about that, Sylvie, but he is right. The 03 is wrong.”

  “Let’s see if she bought two that day,” Ridge suggested.

  The three of them quickly went through the remaining tickets. No luck. Sylvie rested her head on Ridge’s shoulder. “Ginger only bought that one ticket on October 27,” Sylvie said. “Just like every other day she was in Winfield last year.” All for nothing.

  “But that can’t be,” Ollie declared. “I know that my store sold a ticket with those numbers, evidently the numbers Ginger always played, on October 27 of last year.”

  “I’m afraid,” Ridge said, putting into words what she’d just realized—the awful, ironic truth, “that the winning ticket was sold to someone other than Ginger. Whoever entered Ginger’s numbers on this ticket on October 27 made one mistake, entered one number wrong. And it’s just as you decided before. Somebody bought the winning ticket and either it’s sitting buried in someone’s wallet or it hit the trash when they got home from vacation.”

  Ollie crumpled the useless ticket and threw it on the table. “Worthless!”

  One very important mistake. One life-and-death error. Sylvie pressed her face against Ridge’s chest for support. Two people had lost their lives. And the ticket was of no value.

  EPILOGUE

  May 25

  Lilacs in various vases composed the centerpiece on the refreshment table near the kitchen. Their fragrance filled the church basement. Dressed in a lavender floral skirt and blouse, Sylvie gazed around the circle of women sitting on folding chairs. On one side of her sat her future mother-in-law, Ellen Matthews. On her other side sat her aunt Shirley and Rae-Jean on the next chair and on her lap her baby. Under the fluorescent lights, the room was filled with cheerful feminine chatter.

  Trish Lawson, who was just beginning to show with her first pregnancy, carried over to Sylvie another large white-and-silver wrapped bridal shower gift from the table that had been piled high with gifts. Sylvie had this gift to open and then Audra Harding would cut the white sheet cake that she had baked and artfully decorated for the shower.

  Sylvie carefully undid the wrapping but still managed to break one ribbon. She tried to look upset, but today she could only smile.

  “Ha!” Florence Lévesque exclaimed. “That’s the fifth ribbon you’ve broken. That means you and Ridge will have five children.”

  “I broke six ribbons at my shower last fall,” Audra announced, “and look what happened to me!” She patted her very prominent middle. “Twins!”

  “Well, that’s certainly an efficient way to have seven children. Only two more pregnancies to go,” Florence piped up. General laughter followed this announcement.

  Beside her, her future mother-in-law smiled. The change in Ellen Matthews over the past two months was just short of amazing. Sylvie had dreaded the moment Ridge and she told his parents of their plans to marry in June. Sylvie had thought that they would be against the marriage. And she had shrunk from their rejection and worried how it would hurt Ridge. But both Ellen and Marv Matthews had accepted the news and had, bit by bit, started coming back to life.

  “Well,” Sylvie spoke up, “we are planning on me having my hip surgery this fall. Babies will just have to wait until I have healed from that.”

  The women in the circle nodded and smiled. They didn’t have to voice their happiness. Sylvie read joy on every face. The only slight regret, and it was very slight, was that Sylvie would be moving away to Madison with Ridge. His crucial work as a state homicide detective must go on. Sylvie and Ridge had been visiting small towns near Madison, looking for a home to buy. Sylvie wanted to settle in a smaller community, which she could become an active part of, especially since Ridge’s work would take him from home often. And she was used to small-town living. She wanted to be in a community where she knew everyone’s name.

  “Oh, how lovely,” Sylvie said sincerely, lifting out an intricately crocheted afghan, done tastefully in different shades of white. “Did you make this, Elsie?”

  Elsie Ryerson, who sat beside Trish, nodded and smiled. “I didn’t know if these old hands—” Elsie lifted up her arthritic hands “—could do it. But they did.”

  “It’s lovely and it will go with whatever colors we decide on. Thank you.” Sylvie carefully folded the attractive afghan back into the box.

  Then she heard male voices and the shuffling of feet coming down the steps into the church basement. One by one entered Keir Harding, Grey Lawson, Chaney Franklin, Tom Robson with Chad Keski at his side, and bringing up the rear were Marv Matthews, Milo, Ben and finally her Ridge. Sylvie felt herself blush.

  Florence Lévesque greeted the men with the news that Sylvie and Ridge were destined to have at least five children. The men took this in good part, nodding and laughing. Then Ridge said, “Keir let it slip that his wife made the cake—”

  “So we decided we had to come and investigate,” Grey Lawson added. “See if it’s up to her usual standards.”

  “You bet,” Tom added and Marv nodded in agreement.

  “And of course we were considering your waistlines,” Chaney teased. “If we eat more cake, you’ll eat less.”

  Rae-Jean hopped up from her chair and scolded with a smile, “Waistlines! There’s nothing wrong with our waistlines.” She and her daughter still lived with Shirley and Tom, but everyone still had hopes that she would finally agree to counseling with Chaney.

  “Enough of this nonsense,” Milo said sensibly. “We want cake.”

  “Sounds like a plan, a delicious one,” Tom added.

  Many of the church ladies still scolded the men good-naturedly. But of course, the men would be given cake, too. After all, they had to carry all the gifts upstairs and stow them into the waiting vehicle—strenuous labor to be sure.

  Sylvie’s gifts would be stored in the attic of Ginger’s apartment where Sylvie had found the worthless lottery ticket that had cost two lives. The gifts would stay there until Ridge and she were married in June and had returned from their honeymoon. Then they could take the gifts to their new home.

  A moment of sadness dampened Sylvie’s buoyant spirits. The funeral luncheon for Ginger had taken place in this room only three months before. Ginger, I still miss you. I wish you could be here. But I know that I will see you again in God’s time. And Tanya is out of the hospital and rehab, and is doing better. Her mother sent money for Tanya’s treatment, but hasn’t come to visit. Why do people do things like that?

  Then Sylvie watched as Audra, with her daughter, Evie, at her side went to cut the cake. Keir hurried to join them. He put his arm around Audra and kissed her cheek and then lifted up Evie for a hug. Trish slipped over to stand beside her husband, Grey, who tucked her close to his side. Tom with Chad gravitated to Shirley and Marv to Ellen. Ridge, Milo and Ben came to stand around Sylvie.

  Ben looked happy. After speaking to a county social worker and psychologist, Sylvie and Ridge had decided to let Milo adopt Ben. The social worker and psychologist had urged this since they believed that Ben had bonded with Milo and with the community of Winfield. They did not advise taking Ben to the Madison area, one more disruption in his young life. And everyone hoped that Doyle Keski’s parental rights to Chad would be terminated after Doyle had been convicted of holding up Bugsy’s. The stolen money in the paper bag had been found in Doyle’s truck’s wheel well. Then, Tom and Shirley would begin the adoption process to gain Chad as their son.

  Sylvie was at peace with Ben becoming her younger brother. Ben had been delighted when Milo had asked if he would like to be his son. And Sylvie did not feel so bad about leaving her father since he wouldn’t be alone. And after all, Madison wasn’t that far away.

  Standing behind Sylvie, Ridge rested his hands on her shoulders, his usual way of connecting with her. She reached up, took one and pressed it to her cheek. I love you, Ridge. Forever. Amen.

  Dear Reader,

  So we come to the end of another se
ries, HARBOR INTRIGUE. I’ve written three stories about three heroes and three heroines. I hope that their stories have uplifted and satisfied you as well as intrigued you. Very soon I will begin writing my next series, which will be for the new Love Inspired Historical line. I enjoy writing contemporary romantic suspense, but I love to write historicals. My new series begins the year after the Civil War. Three Quaker sisters each have a different challenge to face and conquer, and each brave heroine will attract one special man. I hope you will look for this new line of books, which will debut in 2008. Please e-mail me at l.cote@juno.com or visit my Web site www.LynCote.net and leave me a message there.

  QUESTIONS FOR DISCUSSION

  Did you feel sorry for anyone in the story? Who? And why?

  Ridge’s parents had suffered a great loss. Why do you think they reacted in the way they did? How would you have reacted?

  Why did Ridge feel uncomfortable around Ben? Do you think they made the right decision letting Milo adopt Ben?

  Why do you think Chaney did not want to know the results of the paternity test? Do you think he was right or wrong? Why?

  Why do you think it was so hard for Ridge to express or even acknowledge his love for Sylvie?

  Do you approve of lotteries? Why or why not?

  Why do you think people start taking drugs? What do you think is the best strategy for stopping this destructive trend?

  What would you do if you were gifted with several million dollars?

  What problems do you think you would encounter in this situation?

  Have you ever witnessed or heard of any acts of ecoterrorism? If so, explain.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-4407-2

  DANGEROUS SECRETS

  Copyright © 2007 by Lyn Cote

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the editorial office, Steeple Hill Books, 233 Broadway, New York, NY 10279 U.S.A.