Midas Murders [Book 3 of the Katherine Miller Mysteries]

by Janet Lane-Walters

  "How so?"

  "Bonnie has seen how much I love finding new ventures. She's always tried to please me. When Marie died the business became my escape from the cares of raising a family alone."

  "You didn't have to be alone."

  "I know and I should have...but that's part of my problem.” He shook his head. “Once the children were grown, work became my life. An error in judgment, I know. You tried to warn me, but I wouldn't listen."

  The logs in the fireplace snapped and sent forth a shower of sparks. “You listened and then did as you pleased. Sometimes you're dense."

  He squeezed my fingers. “I want to be involved in life the way you are. You're surrounded by people who love and care about you. Other than you and my children, my other acquaintances just brush the surface of my life."

  Though I understood his feelings, I wondered how he would function when work no longer formed the boundaries of his life. Unlike me, he'd never been involved in the community. Oh, he'd given his name and money to charities, but he'd never delivered food to the poor or offered comfort to someone who had lost their home, a job or a loved one. He'd never meddled in people's lives the way I have. His habit of dividing his time between two widely separated areas hadn't encouraged involvement.

  "Habits developed over the years are almost impossible to break,” I said.

  He met my gaze. “I want to try. Will you help?"

  Before I had a chance to answer, the doorbell pealed and the front door opened. Megan ran into the room. “Pop, Aunt Kaferine, see my new dress.” The long skirt of her fiesta dress swirled around her ankles.

  "Very pretty,” Lars and I said.

  "We're early,” Don said. “She couldn't wait."

  Lars chuckled. “I see you left the kitten at home."

  "My sister will be upset enough about eating dinner with a child. Rose Prairie would have sent her running home."

  His statement nettled me. “What's wrong with children dining with adults? How else will they learn table manners?"

  "From the nanny my sister suggests I hire to keep Megan out of sight."

  Megan crawled onto Lars’ lap. “I make a picture for Aunt Kaferine.” She handed me a slightly crumpled piece of drawing paper. “You can take it home and show big Rose Prairie."

  Though primitive, the drawing looked surprisingly like the kitten. “Did your daddy help?"

  She shook her head. “Just me."

  Don nodded. “She likes making pictures, but I won't push her. Just provide the means for expression. If she's still interested when she's in her teens, we'll talk about lessons."

  "Good thinking.” Another evidence of his ability as a single parent. “Let me put this away.” When I returned from the guest room, I held out my hands to Megan. “Want to help me?"

  "Yes."

  Once the cake was glazed and all but the pasta cooking, I carried a tray of vegetables to the living room. Megan brought the dip. A short time later, Bonnie and then Damon arrived.

  Damon handed me a bouquet of red and white roses. “For the hostess."

  "Thank you.” I peered into the foyer. “Has anyone heard from Carl?"

  Bonnie shook her head. “He hasn't called or come home. None of his pals has seen him."

  "I'm puzzled.” Damon strode toward the dining room where Don mixed drinks. “He left a message on my voice mail saying something had come up and he'd call later. As yet he hasn't."

  "Bet he's hiding from his creditors,” Don said.

  "Have the funds been drawn from that account in Florida?” I asked.

  "Won't know until Monday,” Lars said.

  "Should we be talking about this now?” Damon asked.

  "Probably not.” Lars turned to Bonnie. “If he doesn't show up, do you have the access codes for his computer files?"

  "They should be at the office,” she said.

  Don handed Damon two drinks. “Martinis for you and Bonnie. A Shirley Temple for Button. Daiquiris for the rest of us.” He filled three glasses and delivered one to me and one to Lars.

  I sipped. “Perfect."

  "About time he did something right,” Bonnie said.

  Don't jaw clenched. Lars grabbed Bonnie's wrist. “That is enough. Can't we have one evening without you taunting your brother?"

  Her laughter held a nervous note. “Daddy, I was only teasing. Lately he's lost his sense of humor."

  "With good reason,” Don said.

  Sure she was teasing, I thought. She seldom missed a chance to put her brother down. Maybe she couldn't hear the tone of her voice, but the rest of us had. I'd also seen a glint of malice in her eyes.

  Rafe arrived before another word was exchanged. He handed me a sheaf of spicy carnations. “For you, Kate, with my thanks for the dinner invitation.” He handed Lars a manila envelope. “Some of the information you wanted."

  Megan ran to Rafe. “You got to come to my house and see Rose Prairie."

  He swung her into his arms. “Muy bonita, nina. After dinner I'll see el gato."

  She giggled. “La gatita."

  After Rafe had a drink, he took some of the vegetables and sat on the couch with Megan. Conversation became general with much talk about skiing. Don and Megan planned to visit the chalet and invited Rafe to go along. Bonnie made a face and asked when they were planning to go since she'd invited a few people to join her there. To my relief their dates didn't conflict.

  When I finished my drink, I escaped to the kitchen bearing the two bouquets of flowers. Lars soon arrived with two crystal vases. He winked. “Should I be worried. Two bunches of flowers. I believe you've charmed them."

  "Hostess gifts.” I quickly arranged the flowers. “Put them on the buffet.” I dropped angel hair pasta in boiling water, then sauteed chopped garlic and basil in olive oil.

  Once the food was arranged in serving dishes, Lars and I carried them to the dining room. I returned for the garlic bread.

  Moments later tension sizzled. Bonnie scowled, but this time I wasn't the recipient of her displeasure. Megan, perched on several books between her father and Rafe, was the target. A small spot of red sauce stained the white tablecloth in front of her plate.

  "I still say children shouldn't be permitted to eat with adults until they learn not to make messes,” Bonnie said.

  Lars leaned forward. “Then I should have fed you in the kitchen until you left for college. Why do you always try to spoil things?"

  Cold anger frosted his voice. Bonnie's eyes widened. I silently applauded Lars.

  Megan dug into the pasta. “Daddy, Aunt Kaferine cooks good. Her make a beautiful cake. Her can teach you."

  "Already signed up for cooking lessons after we move."

  "Goody."

  Bonnie rested her fork on the plate. “Move? What are you talking about?"

  "You've heard my plans. Megan and I will live in Dad's house back east for a bit."

  Bonnie's gaze raked her father. “That's hardly fair. Daddy, I can't afford to buy two people out, especially after my husband and your assistant gave away a million dollars. Sorry, brother, you're stuck here."

  "Have I asked for money?” Don started to rise. “Since I have a place to live, I can support Megan and myself very well. Keep your money."

  Lars shook his head. “The dinner table is no place for family feuds. I'm seriously considering liquidating the company."

  "What?” Bonnie nearly screamed the question.

  Damon looked up. “You can't do that."

  Rafe chuckled. “Seems he can. It's his company."

  "Wrong,” Bonnie said. “Don and I have equal shares. I'll never agree."

  "And I'll vote with Dad,” Don said.

  "You...you...” Bonnie sputtered.

  "Let's put this subject to rest,” Lars said. “Kate has prepared a wonderful meal. I suggest we enjoy the food and talk of other things."

  Rafe winked at me. “Lars is right about the food."

  Damon nodded. “I think she should open a restaurant."
<
br />   "In my next life."

  Rafe turned to Damon. “Saw a house the other day that's a real steal. You interested?"

  Damon shook his head. “I prefer my condo."

  "Know what you mean. With a condo there's no yardwork and no repairs to worry about."

  "Only if you rent.” Damon turned to me. “What's housing like back east?"

  "Pricey though the further you are from the city, the less expensive it is.” I glanced at Rafe. “Is the house we saw yesterday for sale?"

  A noise startled me. Bonnie's fork had dropped onto her plate.

  Rafe nodded. “It is not. There was a binder but the prospect called this morning and backed out."

  Something in his dark eyes puzzled me. What did he know that he wasn't saying? Who had put the binder on the house? Could I corner him and extract a name before he left?

  I turned to Bonnie. “I want to buy some gifts for my family and friends. As you know your father has no desire to go shopping. Do you have any suggestions for the best places?"

  "The shops around the plaza are good.” Her voice held an air of condensation. “Most of them cater to tourists."

  The conversation turned to books and movies. Though the tension no longer crackled, beneath the geniality, rancor bubbled. I'd certainly learned nothing new, except no one seemed to miss Carl.

  When the meal ended, Lars and I cleared the table. Dessert was served in the living room. As I poured coffee I listened to the idle chatter. Several times I tried to inject a search for clues with no success.

  At a little before ten, Don rose. “Dinner was great, but it's time for me to head home.” He pointed to Megan who had curled on the couch beside Rafe.

  Rafe stood. “I'll go along with you so I can see the kitten.” He pressed my hand. “Thank you for dinner. Lars, I'll call tomorrow to see if you have any questions about the material I left. I believe you're in for a surprise."

  What did he mean by that?

  Bonnie put her cup down. “I didn't realize it was so late. There are a couple of places I need to visit to see if anyone's seen Carl."

  "Do you need an escort?” Damon asked.

  She smiled. “Not tonight."

  After she left, Damon, Lars and I carried the plates and cups to the kitchen. “Still think you'd make a fortune if you opened a restaurant, or maybe you could write a cookbook."

  "Too much trouble. I cook by instinct."

  He turned to Lars. “We need to talk. Your decision to close shop is unacceptable."

  Why should it matter to him, I wondered.

  Lars shook his head. “The decision is mine."

  Damon smiled. “Don't be so sure. I've no problem about making your secret public."

  The slam of the front door reverberated through the house. “Daddy,” Bonnie screamed. “Daddy, help me."

  The three of us reached the living room at the same time as Bonnie. My thoughts raced with possible disasters. Had she encountered an intruder in the house? Had she been attacked? Had she found Carl's body?

  "Honey, what's wrong?” Lars asked.

  "A message on the answering machine. From the police. About Carl."

  Lars gathered her into his arms. “It'll be all right. Let me call them."

  I returned to the kitchen to store the remains of the meal. Damon joined me and loaded the dishwasher. “Sure hope Carl's not in trouble."

  "Why should he be?"

  "You've seen his car. He likes to push it to the max. Not a good idea on these roads."

  Lars appeared in the doorway. “Carl's had an accident. I'm going with Bonnie."

  "Do you want me to come?"

  He shook his head. “Just wait up for me."

  After Lars left, Damon turned to me. “What did I tell you? I've warned him a hundred times."

  "Maybe he wasn't at fault.” I left the kitchen and walked to the living room where I put a log on the fire.

  A short time later, Don arrived. “Where did Dad and Bonnie go in such a rush?"

  "Carl's been in an accident,” Damon said.

  "How bad?"

  "We don't know,” I said.

  He turned to leave. “Call when you hear something. I'd better go so Rafe can leave. He has an appointment."

  When the door closed behind him, Damon took his coat from the closet. “Mind if I leave?"

  "Go ahead. There's nothing you can do here."

  "Tell Lars I'm not joking about making certain things public. He can't hide the truth much longer.” He stepped outside.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Ask Lars. He knows."

  * * * *

  The flames in the fireplace mesmerized me and allowed my thoughts to wander. They slid from Damon's mysterious pronouncement to Carl's accident. Then they meandered from Bonnie's attitudes to the decision I'd soon have to make. Would I accept or reject Lars’ proposal?

  I drifted in a half-sleep until a loud click startled me. I leaped to my feet. Lars entered the living room. He looked exhausted.

  I went to him. “How is he?"

  "The man in the car is dead."

  "The man? Are you trying to say it wasn't Carl?"

  Lars shrugged. “The car was his, but the body was too badly burned to make a positive identification. They're doing an autopsy and that upset Bonnie.” He embraced me. “Why is this happening?"

  "That's a question I can't answer. When and where did the accident occur?"

  "They're not sure when. Happened on a deserted stretch of the high road to Albuquerque, not the super highway. Seems his car was sideswiped."

  On the road to the airport where flights to places like Florida could be caught. “Was it like Ramona's accident?"

  He shrugged. “Looks that way."

  "Damon said something about the truth coming out. What did he mean?"

  His hold on me tightened. “We'll talk about that in the morning when I'm not drained."

  "Is that a promise?"

  He released me. “Can one of your teas obliterate the past?"

  "I'm not sure anything can.” I pressed my head against his shoulder. “You can't hold everything inside forever. You need to talk."

  "Tomorrow."

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  Chapter 9

  ~

  La Cuerda Dorada

  -

  Sunday was spent in a quiet manner and brought no confession from Lars. I'd thought about going to church, but when I reached the kitchen and saw how exhausted he appeared, I changed my mind. He looked as though he'd had a restless night and little sleep. I also put my questions aside for a time.

  After breakfast he retreated to his study. I spent most of the day trying to make sense of the events.

  By the time we left for dinner, there'd still been no word about the identity of the body in Carl's car. If Rafe had called, he'd spoken to Lars and hadn't asked for me.

  * * * *

  The next morning I showered and went to the kitchen to find Lars already there. I put bread in the toaster and poured a mug of the strong brew he prefers. After the toast popped, I sat across the table from him and waited for him to speak. If he didn't bring up the subject of Damon, I certainly would.

  "Looks like it's going to be a bright day.” He raised his mug.

  "The weather isn't what we're going to talk about. You promised you'd tell me what Damon's cryptic remarks meant. I let you off yesterday, but I want to know. You asked me to help you, but how can I when I'm in the dark about what's going on."

  His chest rose with the depth of the breath he took. “You did and so did I. It's...embarrassing to me. Damon claims to be my son. Says he has proof and holds me responsible for his miserable childhood. Said his mother died giving birth."

  I frowned and remembered something Damon had confided while we'd danced at the New Year's Eve party. “That's odd. He told me his mother had had a stroke. I'm not sure when, but from the things he said, she must have lived for a time after her illness."

  "According to h
is story, his mother's sister and her husband adopted him. He must have meant her."

  "What proof does he have?"

  "He said he found the original of his birth certificate and I'm listed as the father."

  "Have you seen it?"

  "No."

  I leaned forward. “Demand to see that piece of paper and ask for DNA testing. A birth certificate isn't necessarily proof. Why are you allowing an opportunist to push you around?"

  "Because it's possible I am his father.” He covered my hand with his. “Remember how ill Marie was when she carried Bonnie and Don? Had to stay in bed for nearly the entire pregnancy. Several times I had to go out of town for business and my secretary went with me. One night...” He sighed. “We went to bed together. Shortly after we returned, she told me she'd found another job and I never saw or heard from her again."

  "So you made a slip more than thirty years ago. Marie would have understood."

  He groaned. “She never knew. You're the first person I've told."

  "You said this woman never contacted you. She never asked for support money or help for her medical bills. That says something to me."

  "If she died she couldn't have."

  "Lars, a pregnancy lasts nine months. There was time for her to tell you. Why are you worried about this coming out now?"

  "What will my children think?"

  "I would hope they'd understand."

  "What really bothers me is the possibility that a child of mine grew up lacking things. The stories he's told me about the way he was treated make me cringe."

  I rose and went to him. “And those stories may or may not be true, but I'm sure they were designed to make you feel guilty. What does he want?"

  "A share in the company."

  "Then demand proof and stop allowing yourself to feel guilty and threatened. You're not acting like the decisive man I've known for years. Have Rafe look into the matter."

  "Kate, I don't want anyone to know."

  "At this point in your life does it matter if you had a child you never knew was yours?"

  "What if...my children are angry?"

  "They'll get over it."

  "What if he refuses to have the tests? What if he turns this into a public spectacle?"

  "If he tries that without the test, he's a fool. Even if he produces a birth certificate, what does that prove? A woman can list any man she chooses as the father."