by Leona Karr
Adam just grunted as if she’d proved his point. He turned onto a backstreet and stopped in front of a small house on a narrow lot.
“Well, I guess Susan’s home,” Carolyn said. “Her car’s in the driveway.”
“Let’s find out.”
They knocked on the door several times, but there was no answer. They could hear a small dog yapping from somewhere outside the house, and as they turned to leave, they saw it in the backyard.
It was a puppy, and it was jumping at the gate with such force that suddenly one of the rickety posts gave way, tipping enough to one side to allow the dog to squeeze through. It bounded down the driveway like a freed prisoner, leaping and barking all around them.
“Whoa, fellow, whoa.” Adam laughingly tried to defend himself from the dog’s exuberant greeting. Adam picked up the pup and held it firmly as he received an enthusiastic face wash from the pup’s tongue. “Sorry, little guy, but you’ve got to go back in the yard.”
Carolyn chuckled. She could tell that Adam was taken with the dog, and she wondered if he’d ever had a dog of his own. From what he’d said about his upper-class background, she guessed a smelly puppy probably wasn’t in the picture.
Adam studied the splintered post. “You hold the gate shut,” he told Carolyn as he set the dog down. “I’ll look around for something to brace it shut.”
There was some laundry hanging on a clothesline and some wooden stakes lying near a small vegetable garden. He’d just started across the lawn to check them out when he smelled it.
“What the…?” He walked quickly to the back door.
Gas! The smell of it seeping through the cracks around the door was unmistakable. He bolted to a kitchen window and peered in. The thin figure of Susan Kimble was lying on the floor in front of a gas stove.
“Stay back,” he yelled at Carolyn, who was still standing by the gate to keep the puppy from escaping again.
“What is it?” she asked as she saw him grab a rake that was leaning against the house and begin breaking windows in the kitchen and laundry room. As the gas-filled air poured out, she had her answer.
Adam jerked a towel off the clothesline, held it over his nose and mouth and ran to the back door.
It wasn’t locked.
As the strong odor of gas assaulted him, he rushed into the kitchen.
Susan Kimble was positioned directly in front of the stove, and the gas jets had been turned on full blast. He twisted them off, then picked her up and carried her out into the yard, his chest heaving with a spasm of coughing.
Carolyn knelt beside the young woman. She sought a spark of life, even though she’d known the truth from the instant she’d seen her.
They were too late. Susan Kimble was dead.
Chapter Thirteen
When the paramedics arrived, they told Carolyn and Adam what they already knew. Susan Kimble had been asphyxiated. Was it by her own hand or someone else’s? Adam immediately wondered.
They had their answer when a note fastened with a hummingbird magnet on the door of the refrigerator was discovered. It was handwritten.
“I’m doing this because it’s too late to make things right. The guilt is mine. My weakness. Forgive me. Susan.”
The arrival of the ambulance had caused a neighbor, Mrs. Reilly, to rush over to see what the commotion was about. Carolyn was relieved to learn that she was the one who’d given Susan the puppy and was willing to take it back.
When the coroner and two policemen arrived, Carolyn and Adam explained how they had dropped by Susan’s house for a visit and found the body in the gas-filled house. Carolyn identified herself as Susan’s employer, and Adam as her husband. They didn’t say anything about their real reason for the visit and didn’t mention the fire.
“It’s better not to feed any idle speculation,” Adam said when they were in the car and driving away. “Maybe Susan set the fire and maybe she didn’t. Obviously, from her note, she’s remorseful about something.”
“Maybe it was about her being pregnant,” Carolyn said evenly.
Adam shot Carolyn a wide-eyed look. “Are you serious?”
“About three months, I’d say. Her extended uterus was apparent when I was checking for vital signs. I’m sure the coroner will confirm it. And they can determine the father through tests.” Carolyn’s mouth tightened. “But I doubt if anyone will push the issue of paternity.”
Adam knew he couldn’t request such tests. He didn’t have any evidence that linked Susan’s personal life to his investigation. There wasn’t anything connecting her to the fire or to any participation in the illegal shipment of drugs. It was certainly true that Susan had been in the right place in the business department to expedite false orders after someone initiated them, but who that person was remained a mystery. And how did those orders get through all the checks and balances of each department?
“Do you want to go back to Horizon?” Adam asked Carolyn as she sat rigid in the seat beside him. “Or would you like to stop for lunch?”
She shook her head. “I’m not hungry. I need a little time to assimilate all that’s happened, I guess. Why don’t you drop me off at the house? I’ll be a lady of leisure this afternoon, and you’ll be free to spend the time however you want.”
“Promise me you’ll stay put in the house? I don’t want you wandering around anywhere without me. The jealous husband, you know.” He winked at her.
She appreciated his effort to make light of the situation. “It’s a deal. I’ll be the dutiful little wife and keep the home fires burning.”
It was a poor choice of words, she realized. All the unanswered questions about the morning’s ordeal came flooding back.
“Maybe you should just keep the bed warm for me,” he suggested quickly, deliberately trying to shift her thoughts in a different direction.
“Is that a dare?” she challenged.
“More of a hope,” he said honestly, and was rewarded by a slight flush on her pale cheeks. The thought of her waiting in that huge bed, her arms open wide to receive him, sent a rush of desire through him. He cursed the sadistic fates that were causing him to fall in love with a woman he couldn’t have. His life of danger and uncertainty had already jeopardized her well-being, he’d be a fool to think she’d want anything to do with him after this was over.
When they reached the mansion and made their way to their wing, he was tempted to stay there with her, but an urgency to pursue the new developments of the fire and Susan’s suicide won out.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if Della and Jasper go straight to Horizon when they get into town,” he told Carolyn as he freshened up and made preparations to leave. “You can call me there if you need me. Lisa’s car is gone and Buddy is out on his boat, so nobody else is home. You can do as you please. I’ll be back before dinner.”
“Be careful,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady as she sat on the edge of the bed watching him. Never had the trite phrase seemed so weighted. Her chest tightened with the nagging fear that some nebulous danger would overtake him the minute he was out of her sight. Everything about him dominated her senses. She longed to touch the wave of dark hair falling over his forehead and trace the strong lines of his chin. The tempting curves of his mouth brought back memories that made her voice husky as she said, “Maybe I should go with you.”
He eased down beside her and turned her face gently toward his. “Hey, don’t look so worried. What happened today, even our narrow escape last night, can be very helpful to us, because it means that the situation is no longer stagnant. As long as there is movement, unexpected facts will surface, and there’ll be opportunities to discover things that someone wants to keep hidden. That’s the name of the game.”
“I don’t want to play,” she said flatly.
He laughed, and his gaze was suddenly like a warm caress on her face. “You’re precious. Remind me to ask you to marry me.”
“Remind me to say yes.”
Was she was just following
his banter or inviting him to take her seriously? He couldn’t be sure. In any case, this wasn’t the time to pursue it, he told himself. Before this investigation was over, she could very well hate the sight of him. He pressed a whisper of a kiss to her forehead.
“Try to enjoy the rest of the day,” he said. “You might even make use of the swimming pool and Jacuzzi to ease those sore muscles.”
“And show off all my scrapes and bruises? I don’t think so. But don’t worry, I’ll make use of the free afternoon.”
In his work, Adam had learned to look beyond the surface of words. A slight inflection could reveal more than what a person was saying. Carolyn had already decided on what she was going to do. He was sure of it.
“What do you have in mind?” he asked casually as he stood up and looked down at her. She showed a flicker of hesitation before she answered.
“I’m going to check out the attic. Morna said they stored my grandfather’s things there when they made his rooms ready for us. No, I don’t need your help,” she added before he had a chance to say anything. “I’m just looking for personal things. Maybe something about my mother. Those snapshots of Jasper’s weren’t very satisfying.”
“I’m not sure you should go through that stuff alone.”
“Why not?”
He could tell from the jut of her chin that any argument was useless. Carolyn had made up her mind to spend the afternoon in the attic and that was that. He could understand why she didn’t want her emotions on parade. If there was any crying to be done, she’d rather do it alone. Still, he wished he’d handled the situation differently.
“Well, don’t overdo it,” he cautioned.
“I won’t,” she promised. “And if I find anything that looks like business stuff, I’ll set it aside and we’ll take a closer look at it later.”
Her tone was dismissive. There was nothing he could do but turn, leave the room and hope with all his heart that her search would bring the emotional healing she deserved.
CAROLYN FOUND MORNA in the dining room giving Lotuse instructions about setting the table for the evening meal. The housekeeper’s expression was anything but welcoming, and she visibly stiffened as if the enemy had arrived.
Morna reminded Carolyn of one of the unfriendly floor supervisors at the hospital who treated everyone on her ward—doctors, nurses and visitors alike—with cold disdain. Carolyn had learned to ignore the woman’s hostility. She drew on the experience now as she faced the glowering housekeeper.
“Morna, I’ve decided to spend some time in the attic this afternoon,” Carolyn told her without preamble. “I’ll need someone to show me where my grandfather’s personal belongings are stored.”
“It’s Sunday afternoon,” Morna replied as if Carolyn was not aware of that fact. “Another day for that kind of activity might serve everyone better.”
“It might,” Carolyn agreed evenly. “But I’ve decided to do it this afternoon.”
As if controlling an overwhelming urge to flatly refuse Carolyn’s request, Morna clamped her mouth shut. Her silent, steely stare didn’t waver for a long moment, but finally she said in clipped tones, “I’ll call Mack in from the greenhouse. I guess his work there will just have to be put off.”
Carolyn ignored the pointed censure in her tone. “I’ll wait in the morning room.”
It was obvious from Mack’s appearance and poignant scent that he’d been working with dirt and fertilizer. He wiped his hands on his soiled overalls. “Morna said you were wanting me. Is there something wrong? She was in a real huff. I know I’m a little behind in getting those shrubs trimmed and—”
Carolyn said quickly, “Everything’s fine, Mack. You’re doing a wonderful job with the landscaping. I just need your help for a few minutes.”
She explained her plans to spend the afternoon in the attic and asked him to help her locate some of her grandfather’s personal effects.
Relief spread across Mack’s smudged face, and he led the way to an attic staircase located in the middle of the second floor. After searching for the right key on a ring hanging from his belt, he opened the squeaky door, reached in and turned on a light. Then he stepped back to let her enter first.
A low, peaked-ceiling room stretched away in every direction. The front and back walls of the attic had a series of dormer windows.
She gasped at the stacks of boxes, barrels, trunks, assorted furniture and other household items haphazardly spread before her. She’d never seen anything like it. It would take days, no, weeks, to sort out all the stuff.
“Kind of a mess,” Mack granted. “I guess the family’s been shoving stuff up here for a good many years. That’s the way it is with these old houses, you know.”
Carolyn didn’t know. She’d never had a family. And she’d never had a house. She felt like an intruder. What right did she have to be there, looking through other people’s belongings?
“I think we piled all your grandfather’s things over by that first window. Arthur didn’t have a lot of clothes. Mostly books, papers and things from his bedroom and study,” Mack said as he forged a path through the maze of items. “Why don’t you point out what you want and I’ll move them downstairs?”
“I have no idea what I want,” she answered honestly. “If I decide to move anything, Mack, I’ll let you know. There’s enough light from the windows for me to check out some of the boxes.” She gestured at an old footstool. “I’ll just sit here and go through them.”
“Okay, let me open these boxes for you. That way you won’t have any trouble looking to see what’s in them.”
“Thank you, Mack. Looks as if I’ll be busy most of the afternoon.”
“All right, then. I’ll be getting back to my work.” He hesitated. “Are you sure you don’t want me to send up one of the girls to help?”
She shook her head. “No, I think this is something I have to do by myself.”
After he’d gone, Carolyn wondered why she’d been so stubborn about doing this all alone. She’d never been one to believe in lingering spirits, but in that shadowy attic, she felt the back of her neck prickle.
Her fingers trembled slightly as she examined some of the things that had been her grandfather’s. She stroked a pipe that still retained a strong odor of tobacco and turned the pages of old books that had his name in them. Little by little she began to know intimate things about him: he loved reading, smoked a pipe, and collected small, wooden Indian figures.
She went through several other boxes Mack had opened for her, but found only miscellaneous things, like papers and magazines her grandfather had kept for some reason. Nothing personal. Nothing that would ease her sense of disconnection. She’d about given up when she opened a box of framed photographs. Her mouth went dry and her hands trembled as she drew them out one by one.
There was a photograph of Arthur and his wife in their wedding finery. My grandmother. Carolyn stared at their faces for a long time and then put the frame down with a sigh. They were two strangers staring at her, nothing more.
There was a high school graduation photo of Jasper, showing him as a solemn young man. Carolyn wondered why he looked as if life had always been a heavy burden. In a silver frame at the bottom of the box was the photograph she’d been hoping for. Her hands trembled as she picked up a picture of a smiling, honey-blond adolescent girl.
As Carolyn read the inscription, “To Daddy, with love, Alicia,” all the years of displacement rushed over her with an aching loneliness. She blinked rapidly to clear her eyes of an instant fullness. When she was a child, the words mother and father had always reminded her of the void in her life. Now with a trembling finger, she traced the features that were so like hers. She sought to find comfort in this realization of her identity, but to no avail.
“Mother,” she whispered in a husky voice, but it was only a word. There were no memories to give it meaning. “It’s too late,” she said in a tremulous voice. “It’s too late.”
She suddenly became aware of t
he sound of footfalls. Quickly she put the picture down, stood up and swiped at her tear-filled eyes.
“Adam?” she asked in disbelief when he came into view. Was she hallucinating?
“There you are,” he said. “I thought I heard sounds coming from this corner.”
“What…what are you doing here?”
“I’m really not sure,” he admitted, but as light from the window bathed her tear-streaked face, he knew his intuition had been right. Giving in to a nagging feeling that nothing was more important at that moment than being with her, he had turned the car around before he reached Horizon. “I guess I decided you might need a hug.”
He put his arms around her, but she stiffened, fearful that if he touched her, she’d give way to the shattering emotion within her. She pulled away and sat back down on her footstool.
“It’s been a little draining going through this stuff,” she admitted as she picked up the photograph of Alicia and handed it to him. “This must have been taken about the time she ran away with my father.”
He nodded. “Yes, I’d say she was about sixteen, wouldn’t you?”
Carolyn’s controlled voice and manner didn’t fool him one bit. He could tell she was torn up inside and fighting for composure. As he looked at the picture of Alicia, he could see the physical resemblance between mother and daughter. Even though strength radiated from the clear, direct gazes of both, Adam was certain of one difference between them: Carolyn would control her future, not waste it.
“I’m almost to the bottom of this box,” she said as she took out the last remaining large envelope filled with various sizes of snapshots. As they spilled out onto her lap, her stomach took a sickening plunge. No, it couldn’t be! All of them were of her—as an adult!
As she played them through her fingers, the photos were a kaleidoscope of her life. Someone had documented every area of her life for the past five years. There were pictures of her walking the hospital corridors, checking medical charts, coming out of the Friends Free Clinic, climbing the outdoor stairs to her apartment, shopping with Rosie, working at her desk at the investment company and many, many more taken in almost every area of her life.