“I didn’t ask if it was hurting her, Harper,” Logan said gently. “I asked if it bothered you. Now. Today. He was with this woman the night your sister and niece disappeared. It seems that might be a tough thing to swallow—that he’s come full circle, ended up with the person who broke your sister’s family apart.”
“Maggie didn’t break them apart. She was a bone of contention between Gabe and Lydia. I know that. My sister brought her up a lot, complained that she was too big a part of Gabe’s life, but Gabe swore up and down they weren’t having an affair. The night Lydia disappeared, she and Amelia were staying at my place. I guess Lydia and Gabe had had another one of their fights, and she’d told him she was coming to live with me.”
“Had that happened before?”
“Once or twice. She’d come, stay the night and go back home. Lydia had it good with Gabe, and she knew it. I don’t think there was anything that could have made her give that up.”
“Not even Maggie?”
“Not even her. From what Gabe told the police, Maggie had lost a patient, and she’d stopped by Gabe’s place because she was devastated. They’d talked until three in the morning, and then she went home. Maggie confirmed the story.”
“You believed them?”
“Logan.” She sighed, because she didn’t want to talk about things that couldn’t be changed. She wanted to see Gabe, find out what else he knew about the blond-haired girl who looked so much like Lydia. “I don’t know what I believed. I was terrified. My sister was missing. My niece was missing. I had no idea where they’d gone. Three days later, Lydia’s body was found, and everything just... It’s a blur. I remember that Gabe’s housekeeper confirmed the story. She let Maggie into the house around ten and served coffee and snacks. She didn’t go to bed until Maggie left.”
“A foolproof alibi for your brother-in-law, huh?”
“Yes.”
“One that money could have bought?”
“It’s not something I didn’t think about at the time.”
“But?”
“I was more worried about proving myself innocent than proving him guilty. Then Lydia’s engagement ring was pawned and the police had another suspect, one who had Lydia’s purse, her jewelry.” She shrugged. “It seemed like the police had the killer.”
“Did you think they did?”
“Most of the time. Other times, I wondered why my sister had left my house in the middle of the night, why she’d brought my niece. I wondered—”
Footsteps sounded in the hall, and she pressed her lips together, locking in the words and the accusation that she really had no business making. Gabe had been having affairs. That was what the press said. He might very well have wanted to get his lower-class wife out of the picture so he could hook up with someone a little more on his level. That was what people whispered behind his back. She didn’t know if any of it was true. She knew that was what Lydia had worried about. She knew her sister had been afraid of losing Gabe. She didn’t know if there was justification for that.
A tiny gray-haired woman stepped into the room, her starched white blouse and crisp black slacks belying the lateness of the hour. Adeline had been working for the Wilsons longer than Gabe had been alive. She’d been there before he’d married Lydia. She was as much of a fixture in the house as any of the light switches or wall sconces, and she wasn’t afraid to make her opinion about things known. Based on the scowl she’d been wearing when she’d opened the door to let Harper and Logan in, she wasn’t happy with their early-morning visit.
“Mr. Wilson insists that I offer you coffee or tea while you’re waiting,” she nearly spat. “Would you like any?”
“I’m fine,” Harper responded. Water would have been nice, but there was no way she was going to ask for some.
“You, sir?” Adeline asked, spearing Logan with a look that would have felled lesser men. He didn’t seem intimidated by it. Maybe because he towered over her by at least a foot.
“No, thank you. My friends might. They’re waiting in the SUV.”
“One of them is. The other one is walking your dog through the back gardens.” She tilted her chin, her eyes blazing black fire. “Those gardens cost a small fortune to maintain.”
“I’d be happy to tell them to keep the dog in the front yard,” Logan responded easily.
“No need. Mr. Wilson said it’s fine. Otherwise, I’d have told them myself. Since he insists that we be polite to people who were rude enough to drag us out of bed in the wee hours of the morning, I’ll go out and see if your friends want something.”
“Before you do,” Logan said, “can you give us some idea of when Mr. Wilson is going to make an appearance?”
“He’s trying to locate the files that contain the information you’re here for. He called his assistant to get some help with it. She should be here shortly. As for Mr. Wilson, he’ll make an appearance when he’s good and ready,” Adeline snapped, turning on her heel and marching out of the room. Seconds later, the front door opened and slammed shut.
“Wow,” Logan murmured. “She’s something else.”
“She worked for Gabe’s dad for three decades. He and his wife moved to Florida ten years ago, and they didn’t take her with them.”
“I wonder why?”
“My sister said the same thing. When her in-laws moved, they deeded the house to Gabe. Adeline came with it. She’s the gift that keeps on giving. That’s what Lydia always said.”
“I think I would have refused the gift,” Logan said, the comment prompting a laugh out of Harper.
“Thanks,” she said. “I needed that.”
“Yeah. You did. You were looking a little overwhelmed.”
“I am a little overwhelmed,” she responded.
She shouldn’t have been glad he was there, but she was. Having him around made her feel less alone, and she needed that more than she needed jokes and laughter.
“It’s got to be strange coming back here after so many years.”
“Strange is one way to put it.”
“What’s another?” He sat on the couch, pulling her down beside her. They were close enough that she could feel the heat of his thigh through her jeans, the warmth of his arm as she leaned back.
“Sad. Lydia loved this place so much.”
“She didn’t love Adeline.”
“True. She didn’t, but that was mostly because Adeline didn’t like her.”
“Was there a reason for that?” he asked, his arm stretched along the back of the sofa, his forearm so close to her head, she could have leaned back just a little and rested against it.
“My sister barely graduated from high school. She didn’t go to college. She and Gabe met while she was waiting tables at a local restaurant.”
“So she wasn’t high class enough for Adeline?”
“That was what Lydia thought. Of course, Lydia had a lot of hang-ups, so she could have been misreading Adeline.”
“You lived here for a year, right?”
“Yes,” she responded, surprised that he knew the information. She doubted there were many people who remembered that. “Lydia was terrified that she wouldn’t be a good enough mother. She asked me to move in and help out, and I agreed. I was in my last year of college, and I figured it would be cheaper to stay with her than to stay on campus another year.”
“So you had a good opportunity to see how Adeline and Lydia interacted,” he commented, and she nodded. She’d had a good opportunity to see how the entire family interacted, and she hadn’t been impressed. She’d told herself a thousand times that things would be different when she married Daniel, that the two of them would have better communication, a more in-sync relationship.
They’d never gotten married, so her mental list of how she wanted things had amounted to a whole lot of dreams and
nothing more.
Still, she could remember the tension in Gabe’s home, the arguments she’d heard through closed doors while she’d rocked Amelia to sleep. Arguments about finances, about women, about the baby. Adeline hadn’t been involved in any of them, but she’d listened. Harper had caught her a couple of times, hovering just on the other side of the office door or just outside the master bedroom.
“Adeline and Lydia didn’t communicate much,” she said, pushing aside the memories. “I think Adeline thought she was a little above Lydia, and Lydia had no patience for people. She was concerned about herself, her husband and her baby. That was about it. It wasn’t the best of situations for either of them.”
“But they both stuck it out.”
“They both loved Gabe.”
“Adeline is the housekeeper. Love seems like a strong word.”
“She basically raised him, Logan. His mother had some mental health issues. Depression or bipolar. I don’t know if they ever put a name to it. I don’t think that’s what kept her from being a good parent, but from what I understand, she was absent more than she was present when he was a kid.” She’d heard bits and pieces of the story while she was living in the house, but she hadn’t been all that interested. She’d been more concerned with making it through her last year of college, trying to salvage her relationship with Daniel, doing all the things that a college student did—all of it while helping Lydia.
“Thinking about it bothers you,” he said, lifting her hand, pressing her fingers open. She hadn’t realized she’d been clenching her fists, but she’d managed to gouge crescents into her palm, her short nails digging deep welts into the skin.
He smoothed his finger over the marks, his skin rough and warm. Her pulse jumped with feelings she didn’t want to have—warmth, attraction, the feeling that this guy had something special to offer, something only he would ever be able to give.
Had she felt that way with Daniel?
She couldn’t remember. She should probably be able to. If the relationship had been as important as she’d thought it was, if he’d been the guy she’d built him up to be, shouldn’t she remember the way his fingers had felt on her arm, the way his arms had felt when they wrapped her in a hug?
All she could remember was the last time she’d seen him—not a bit of guilt in his eyes as he’d told her that he’d found someone else.
“Lots of things bother me, Logan.” She tugged her hand from his and stood, pacing back to the door that led into the hall. “Like waiting for Gabe when I know that he was awake before we even got to the front door.”
“A power game,” he said simply, beside her again, just a few inches away, his jacket open, his shoulder holster visible beneath it.
“I don’t like games.”
“Then, we have something in common.” He smiled, stepping out into the hall and heading to the staircase.
“Where are you going?” she whispered, hurrying after him, because she didn’t want to stand in the hallway, looking at dozens of photos of her sister and niece.
“To find him.”
“You can’t just barge upstairs.”
“Watch me.” He was already on the third step, heading up the wide curved stairway, and she was right behind him. She knew the way to the master suite, knew where the nursery was—or had been. Had Gabe changed it?
They were on the landing when the front door opened and Adeline hustled inside, a petite dark-haired woman beside her. Black hair cut short, the hairstyle sleek and trendy. Large blue eyes. Full lips that might have had some help from collagen. Thin brows and thick lashes. Pretty. Professional in dark slacks and a simple cardigan set nearly covered by a black wool coat. She looked familiar, and Harper tried to put the face with a name, but the memory was just out of reach.
The woman knew her, though.
Her eyes widened, and she smiled, rushing forward to pull Harper in for a hug. “Harper! It’s been forever. When Gabe said you were here, I almost couldn’t believe it. But—” she stepped back, the smile still in place “—here you are.”
“Yes. I wanted some information about—”
“Amelia. That whole mess with someone sending that picture.” The woman shook her head, her hair barely moving, and something about the way she cocked her head to the side sparked another just-out-of-reach memory. “We’ve got copies of everything on file in Gabe’s office here, but he’s not sure where it is. He said I could just tell him, but this will be easier. I can find it myself in two seconds flat. How about we go in the office and wait for him?”
* * *
Easier how?
That was what Logan wanted to know. The woman had left home in the middle of the night to drive to her boss’s house to help him find a file? Seemed strange to him, but when she turned her overly made-up eyes on him, he just smiled.
“Logan Fitzgerald,” he said, offering his hand.
She clasped it briefly, nodded. “Sandra Williams. Gabe’s secretary/assistant/right-hand man. We spoke on the phone when I set up your meetings with him.”
“Right.” He remembered. The woman had been very efficient and very specific. She’d called with a date for their first meeting, a time, a place—not at the office because Gabe hadn’t wanted to draw attention to what he was doing. She’d been matter-of-fact without being too abrupt, but he’d had the feeling she’d felt as if calling him was a waste of her valuable time.
“Sandra?” Harper exclaimed, her eyes wide with shock. “Sandra Williams from Suitland High School?”
“You didn’t recognize me?” Sandra laughed, but Logan didn’t see a whole lot of good humor in her eyes. “I guess I’ve changed a little in the past few years.”
“It has been a while,” Harper murmured. She still looked surprised and uneasy.
“Five years. I was so sorry that I couldn’t come back for Lydia’s...” Her voice trailed off, and she blinked tears from her eyes. “Her funeral. And Amelia’s.” She cleared her throat. “I had some major clients in New York who I was working for, and I couldn’t get away.”
“I understand,” Harper responded, reaching out to touch Sandra’s arm.
“I don’t. I’ve never been able to forgive myself. Lydia and I were best friends until I moved away, and then...” She shook her head. “I wish I’d never gone to New York. The time I spent there was such a waste, but I guess I had to try, and Lydia supported me a hundred percent in going for my dreams.”
Harper nodded. “I remember her telling me about your move.”
“Did she?”
“Yes. She was excited for you. Of course, she was about to get married, and she was distracted. Otherwise she’d have made the trip to New York and helped you move.”
“That’s the kind of person she was,” Sandra said with a sigh. “The office is this way.” She led the way down the hall, bypassing the sitting room where Logan and Harper had been waiting. The house was immense by Logan’s standards, probably close to ten thousand square feet. The hallway was long, wide and lined with framed photos that Harper seemed to be studiously avoiding looking at.
Sandra turned left into another wing of the house. Just a short hallway and double doors.
She fished a key from her pocket, unlocked the doors and opened them. “Come on in. I’m sure Gabe won’t mind. He’s generally very hospitable.”
“Not when I’ve been woken at two in the morning,” Gabe said as he rounded the corner behind them.
He didn’t look like a guy who’d been woken. He looked wide-awake, his dark slacks and white button-down shirt wrinkle-free, his black shoes polished to a high sheen. Hair cut short, eyes sharp. He met Logan’s gaze, then shifted his attention to Harper.
“It’s been a while, Harper.”
“Yes.” She didn’t move toward him, and he didn’t offer a hand or a hug. They both
seemed tense, whatever thoughts or words they needed to say hidden behind a veil of civility.
Logan would have to break through that.
He wanted the truth. All of it. Without that, he wasn’t going to be able to keep Harper safe.
“I’d say that I’ve missed you, but my life has been pretty hectic the past few years, and I haven’t really had time to miss anyone.” He walked into the office, Sandra so close to his side they could have been one person.
“You’ve missed Lydia and Amelia,” Sandra corrected him, and he frowned.
“I’m sure that Harper understood that,” he said.
Harper didn’t comment. She’d moved across the room, her shoulders slumped, her face pale. French doors looked out onto a dark yard, and she stopped there, visible to anyone who might be looking, backlit by the office.
Not a place he wanted her to be.
He stepped between her and the glass. “How about we not stand in front of glass doors?”
“How about we get the answers we came for?” she responded, and he nodded, because he understood the feeling of wanting to know, of being desperate for answers, for proof, for something that justified hope.
“Okay,” he said, nudging her back. “But not while we’re standing in front of the doors.”
“I’ll get that file,” Sandra said cheerfully, her bright voice at odds with the situation. Maybe that was the way she reacted to stress, but Logan thought it was odd. He thought the entire household was odd—Gabe, Adeline, the ten thousand or so square feet of space that two people lived in. Odd didn’t mean criminal, though. Then again, it didn’t mean innocent.
Gabe had plenty of money and plenty of power. He could afford to hire people to keep his lawn looking perfect, to wash his windows and paint his house. He could afford fancy suits and huge offices, and Logan had no doubt he could afford to hire people to do his dirty work.
Deadly Christmas Secrets Page 10