by Vicki Hinze
“So there is a but in that comment,” Jeff said. “What is it?”
Doubt left Beth. “How can a man talk to his own wife on the phone that often for that long and still not recognize her voice?”
“Nathara, what are you doing here?”
Darla Green closed her front door and stared at Nathara and Tack, standing in the middle of her entry hall.
“Running an errand for Nora.” Her floppy hat had a wide green brim that shadowed her eyes. “I thought you were at Crossroads, manning the phones.”
“I was. Every crazy in the tricounty area is calling in sniff reports.”
“Sniff reports?”
“Smell something funny—because of the club attack.”
Tack harrumphed. “Seeing the Hazmat teams on the news, I expect.”
“Probably, Tack. Things are finally settling down.” Darla laid her purse on the entry table, then dropped her keys on a silver tray. “So what does Nora need, Nathara?” Tack hadn’t moved. Why was he staying put? And what was that on his shoes. It looked dry—and it’d better be. If he soiled her new white carpet, she would be upset.
“Nothing from you. She wants Tack to be a pallbearer at Clyde’s funeral tomorrow. It’s at two o’clock.”
That “nothing from you” stung, but Darla ignored it. “How’s she doing?”
“It’s silly.” Nathara sniffed. “Such a fuss over her and a man who lived a long life.”
Darla bit her tongue. She wasn’t fond of Nathara, but what Beth said at the club about Darla not being beyond redemption had stuck with her. She didn’t want to put it to the test. Her mistakes were bad ones, and there were a lot of them. She’d mulled over Beth’s words—especially that coward remark—and figured she had nothing to lose by praying. That’s why she’d gone to Crossroads. All those people prayed a lot in its little chapel and God heard them. Darla figured if she prayed there, maybe He’d hear her too. So she gave it a try. But if God had heard her, He hadn’t let her know it. Still, she wasn’t giving up. She wasn’t a coward and something had to change. No mere mortal could do what needed doing to help her. She’d hit rock bottom and parked there. It was God or nothing.
“I’d better get back.” Nathara walked past Darla to the door. “Don’t be late for Clyde’s funeral. Nora’s reminding everyone. Why that’s so important to her, I have no idea.”
Tack tipped his hat. “I’ll be there early.”
Nathara frowned, looked down her nose at Darla. “Will you be there?”
“Of course. I’ve known Clyde for years.” That she wasn’t wanted didn’t escape her; Nathara’s expression made it abundantly clear.
“Then you need to know he’s not being buried at the village cemetery but at Race Miller’s old place in Magnolia Branch. Nora says everybody knows where it is.”
Darla did. “Why is he being buried there?” Surely he could afford a cemetery plot.
“Apparently Clyde was born on that property and he wanted to be buried on it.”
“But it’s private property,” Darla told Nathara. “Race Miller sold it to SaBe.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“Then Beth’s given permission to bury Clyde there?”
“You’d have to ask Beth that. All I know is what Clyde wants, Nora will get.” Nathara walked out and closed the door behind her.
Darla turned to Tack. “Did you know Clyde’s family once owned that property?”
“Yeah.” Tack’s weathered face looked pinched. “For a couple generations. Then Clyde fell on hard times—back when his wife got sick—and he got a mortgage from Race. The community went bust about the same time. Poor Clyde lost his wife and the land. Race left it vacant until some pornographers trespassed to make movies and got arrested on it. He was beside himself about that and sold it to SaBe.”
Tack lifted his cap then set it back on his head. “I heard at Ruby’s that Beth bought it and tried to give it to Clyde, but he wouldn’t take it. Said them putting a safe house on it was a fine thing.”
Beth adored Clyde. Her offering it to him didn’t surprise Darla a bit. “How awful for Clyde to lose his family’s land.”
“He was holding on to it for sentimental value. Ain’t lived up there since he was a kid.”
“Sad. I just hate that.” Darla was genuinely touched. “Family is important.” She’d had one and lost it. John to death, her son to guilt. She deserved the loss, but she still regretted it.
“Well, I need to get back to work.” He moved to the back of the house, toward the door to the terrace. “I’m bleaching the terrace to kill any mold. Best let it dry before coming out.”
Being so close to the water, everything outside molded or rusted. “Didn’t you do that last week?”
“Yep, but with all the rain, it needs doing again.”
Usually the deep cleaning lasted a lot longer than a week. Strange. “Don’t you have a campaign debate with Hank tonight at the high school?” The polls had them neck and neck.
“Not until six.” Tack went outside.
Something on the floor caught Darla’s eye. It looked almost as if it had been tucked behind the sofa’s rear leg. She bent down and picked it up. Soft. Rubbery. Skin colored. “What in the world?”
She flipped it over—a mask—and saw a nose.
A nose that looked remarkably like her own.
9
Someone shook her shoulder.
Beth startled awake, blinked rapidly to clear her vision.
Jeff stood beside the sofa. “Sorry, but it’s time to go to the bank.”
She shoved off the velvet throw, stiffened against the sudden chill and then stood, dragging herself from grogginess. “Give me five minutes.”
“No problem.” He checked his watch.
Probably freaking out at them relying on Darla when he believed she killed John. Beth couldn’t hold that against him. In his work, he saw the worst in people a lot more often than he saw the best. That could make a man cynical. Maybe Dennis Porter getting the money would restore a little of Jeff’s faith—providing, of course, he did get it.
Beth climbed into Jeff’s black Tahoe, closed the door, then clicked her seat belt. With only the odd porch light on, it was inky dark in Sara’s housing development. Jeff cranked the engine. It pierced the still silence, loud and obnoxious.
His jaw set, his knuckles shone in the green dash lights. “Which bank branch?”
Silently, she prayed Dennis wouldn’t let Darla and her down. “Community on Highway 98, just past Home Depot.”
Traffic was light, but the ride over was tense. It set Beth’s teeth on edge and a dull ache started in her head. If Dennis failed, Jeff would believe that failure was intentional and nothing would convince him otherwise. That strengthened the temple thud and put knots in her neck.
He tapped the turn signal. Its click kept time with the thud. When he turned into the parking lot, she strained to see the bank—and nearly wept with relief.
Darla stood just behind the glass front door and Dennis Porter, bless his heart, stood beside her wearing a frown, a three-piece gray suit, and a lemon-yellow tie.
“Well, he’s here.” Jeff wove through the lot, which was empty except for two cars. “Not that being here means he has the money.”
Beth bit back a smile. “What do you think is in the black case at his feet?”
“I don’t believe it.” Jeff’s jaw went slack. He stopped at the curb in front of the bank.
“Miracles happen, Jeff. You just have to have faith in people.”
“Miracle? More like a felony.” He shoved the gearshift into Park. “To pull this off, Porter had to commit a bunch of them.”
Now that ticked Beth off. “What an unfair thing for you to assume about any of us. I’m not stupid enough to do business with a banker who’d commit felonies.”
“This isn’t working. You’re trying to make this about you, but—”
“I’m trying to pay the ransom.” She wasn’t taking one more insu
lt. Not one more.
He frowned and held it. “I am going to ask how he managed this.”
Dennis would tell him too, but Jeff wouldn’t learn a thing about having faith in people. “If you do, I’ll tell him to forget it and put the money back in the bank.”
“What?” Jeff looked at her as if she’d lost her mind.
“You heard me.” She hiked her chin. “I have no legal obligation to do this or to be involved at all. I choose to help, but I have ethics and personal lines in the sand, and you’re crossing them. Maybe you insult people who move mountains to help you, but you’re not going to insult them for moving one for me.” She clenched her jaws. “That’s just the most ungrateful thing I’ve ever heard of in my life, and I won’t be a party to it.”
He stiffened and let out a sigh that could propel a boat halfway across the Gulf. “Fine.” He cut the engine and jerked the key from the ignition.
“Fine.” She wanted to clam up, but couldn’t risk him accusing Dennis of anything illegal. “You seem so enlightened at times, it’s hard to believe you have such a lack of faith in people.” Amazing. He was so close to Peggy Crane and the Crossroads bunch. Beth opened the door and delivered the final blow. “If Peggy Crane knew this, she’d have the prayer warriors going around the clock for you—and Nora would be devastated.”
To his credit he held his tongue.
Hoping she wouldn’t regret her outburst, Beth walked up the steps of the bank.
Beth and Jeff were back at Sara’s with the money. Kyle scanned the bills to capture the serial numbers, Mark put the bills into a black waterproof bag, and Roxy verified them as included.
Jeff hadn’t said a word to Beth in the half hour they had been at Sara’s. That was fine with Beth. She was tense, chiding self-indulgence in giving in to her temper, bone tired, out of patience and irked because she still had so far to go on her spiritual journey. Would she be stuck forever as a work-in-progress?
The front door opened.
Everyone alerted.
Sara walked in and stopped suddenly, startled by all the activity in her home. “Beth?”
Peggy circled around Sara, her chunky iridescent necklace winking in the light. “We tried to make her stay put, but if Harvey and I hadn’t driven her home, she would have walked.”
“I understand.” Beth frowned at Sara. “She’s stubborn.”
“She’s determined.” Sara lifted her chin. “And she’s fine.”
“Did Dr. Franklin and Harvey say that, or just you?” Beth hugged her. “He didn’t release you, did he?”
No answer.
“You left without him releasing you? Sara, what are you doing?” Beth backed away. “You’d better really be okay, or I’ll take you back to the hospital myself.”
Sara put down her purse. “Quit worrying. Dr. Franklin authorized my release.”
“In the morning.” Peggy guffawed. “Not that she gave him much choice.”
“It is morning.” Sara glared at Peggy for outing her, then looked at Beth. “I was going crazy, wondering what was happening here.”
“All right.” How could Beth object? She’d feel the same way. “But any sign of trouble—and you’re going right back or else I’m going to Nora.”
Sara groaned. “That’s so unfair. You know how she gets.”
“Yes, I do.”
“I told her the same thing, Beth.” Peggy crossed her arms. “But, bless her heart, she’s as hardheaded as you, and that’s saying something.”
The FBI agents watched closely, and that comment seemed to please Jeff a tad too much. He was still smarting from her dressing down, so Beth let it slide.
Sara nodded a greeting to the agents and looked around the living room, noting the assembly line and all the equipment. “Roxy, what is all this?”
“Beth will explain. We’re a little short on time.”
“Time for what?”
“I’ll explain that too,” Beth said. “Peggy, how about you put on a pot of tea while I catch Sara up?”
“Of course.” Peggy looked at the agents. “Would you like tea or coffee? A snack?”
Beth led Sara into the family room, sat her down on the sofa, and then briefed her on the major developments. No sense in bothering her with minutia; the less strain the better.
“You put up the money for Robert, didn’t you?”
Beth’s face burned. “For you, not him.”
Sara squeezed her hands. “Thank you.”
“You’re my family.” Their gazes locked, and Beth turned the subject. “Are you really okay?” Surely Harvey Talbot wouldn’t bring her home unless he was sure she could handle it.
“I really am,” Sara assured her.
Peggy walked in. “Any signs of stress and Harvey is waiting for her at Crossroads.” She sat on the other end of the sofa with a grunt. “Gracious.” She winced at Sara. “Not to be critical, dear, but this sofa is as hard as a rock.”
It was. There wasn’t a comfortable seat in the entire house.
“Sorry,” Sara said. “I don’t like it either, but Robert loves the thing, so what can I do?”
“I understand. My Frank has a twenty-year-old recliner I’d love to toss on the trash heap, but he refuses to give it up.”
“Men. You gotta love ’em.” Sara turned to Beth, regret in her eyes. “I’m sorry I wigged out on you. I tried to hold it together but I couldn’t do it.”
“You don’t have to apologize, but you’ve got to quit scaring me. Your body can’t take it, and neither can my heart.” Beth considered telling her about the messenger at the fund-raiser and asking her about the hospital visits that according to him weren’t for mild attacks, but the timing wasn’t right. Sara had kept that private and, like it or not, Beth had to respect that.
Peggy stood. “I’m going home to shower and change clothes. If you need me, Beth, call. And do be careful, Sara.” With a gentle hand, she touched Sara’s cheek. “No more medical emergencies.” When Sara nodded, Peggy looked at Beth. “And no more unnecessary risks. I heard about you retrieving the instructions.” She huffed. “I’ll be speaking to Jeff.”
“Don’t, Peggy. Somebody had to pose as Sara. It was Roxy or me. I’m taller.”
“I see.” That she really did shone in her eyes. “Lisa and Harvey are at the center if you need them.” Peggy passed Sara two prescription bottles. “One of each every six hours. First hint of a symptom, you go to the center. No debate.”
Sara nodded. “Thanks for everything.”
“Of course, hon.” Peggy walked out of the room and into the entryway.
When she was out of earshot, Sara asked, “You posed as me?”
Beth gave Sara a brief overview, trying not to throw her into overload.
“You’ve done everything possible on every front. I’m grateful, Beth.”
Beth shrugged and words tumbled out of her mouth she never intended to speak. “Jeff asked me if I was involved in Robert’s kidnapping.”
Sara stiffened and stared, silent.
Uneasiness settled between them. Beth hated it. “I’m not.”
“Why did he ask?”
Beth tried not to be hurt. Tried not to resent Sara’s failure to object, to state her certainty Beth would never do such a thing. But this was Robert. Beth understood, yet letting go of the disappointment was going to take work and a little time. “He said he had to.”
“Jeff always has been very conscientious.” Sara touched a fingertip to her chin. “Maybe you should appreciate him a little more for that.”
“I appreciate him doing his job; I just don’t love him.”
“He gets to you. I know he does, and since Max showed his true tacky self, few men get to you, Beth.”
Max had made her gun-shy and she wouldn’t deny it. She survived that humiliation once, but she never wanted to go through it again. Still, Sara was almost right. Wrong man. Joe got to her, but she didn’t want him to get to her. “Jeff doesn’t get to me in a good way. Honestly, there are
times I have to work at it to like him at all.”
Sadness flashed through Sara’s eyes. “Love can do that too.”
“It’s not love.” She’d considered them friends, but now? Lacking faith in people left a gaping hole in their friendship. Joe didn’t doubt her. He hadn’t hesitated for a second. Her heart skipped a beat. He’d break her heart, regardless of what he said, but he believed in her.
“Well, that’s that on Jeff, then. Pity. I always liked him.”
Something in her voice alerted Beth. “You had a thing for Jeff?”
“I did,” Sara confessed in hushed tones. “A bad one.”
“But you never said a word.”
“He only had eyes for you.”
“We only dated a couple times, Sara. Why didn’t you—?”
“It would have been awkward. Then I met Robert, and everything changed.”
Boy, had it. “I can’t believe this. I had no idea.”
“Let it go. Life’s moved way beyond that now.” Sara let out a wistful sigh. “Tell me about the ransom. What happens next?”
Beth shifted on her seat. “We’re to drop the money at Jay’s Place at dawn. Put it in an inner tube and set it afloat in the Blackwater River. That’s all I know.” Beth checked her watch. “Jeff will be in any second. It’s time to go.”
“What’s Jay’s Place?” Sara stood. “I’ve never heard of it.”
“I hadn’t either. It’s near the Blackwater River State Park. There’s a picnic area on the river and they rent canoes. People float down the river in them or in inner tubes, then someone from Jay’s retrieves them and returns them back to their cars.”
“Did Jeff think this was odd—in this kind of case, I mean?”
“If he did, he didn’t say so. Roxy either.”
Sara rubbed her hands. They were shaking. “Let’s go, then.”
“Oh no.” Vintage Sara. Ignoring Dr. Franklin’s orders already. “You stay here and rest. I’ll handle it.”
“No.” Sara’s expression changed to steel. “The kidnapper said I was to drop the money off and I’m going to do it.”
“What’s the difference?” Beth tried to reason with her. “So long as the money is set afloat, do you think they really care who puts it in the water?”