by Beth Andrews
“They’re faster than you think. You get that e-mail I sent you? It had the financials you wanted me to check out.”
“I’m booting up now.” Dean leaned back and picked up the coffee. “Did you find anything?”
“Nothing new. The trail ends in Cincinnati. I still think you would’ve been better off staying there.”
“No point. The lead was dead.”
The New York cops had lost Lynne and Jon Addison’s trail there, as well. And any interest in the case. According to the detective Dean had spoken with right before he’d headed up to Serenity Springs, the file on the disappearance of Lynne and Jon, the wife and young son of prominent businessman and philanthropist Miles Addison, was still open.
Still open but very much cold.
Now, almost a year later, Dean was trying to pick up the Addisons’ trail.
He had very few leads. All he knew for certain was that on a sunny July morning a year and a half ago, Lynne Addison had kissed her husband goodbye before taking their son to the park six blocks away. They hadn’t been seen since.
Dean accessed his e-mail account and waited for his new messages to download before opening the attachment and scanning the documents Nolan had sent.
“Damn.” He pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. He’d been so sure he’d find a clue in Allison Martin’s financial records.
“I know you think Allison Martin was involved—”
“She received a call at her office at Hanley, Barcroft, Blaisdell and Littleton from Lynne’s cell phone shortly after Lynne and Jon left their residence the day they disappeared.”
“Except the call lasted less than five seconds. Ms. Martin claimed there was no one on the other end, so she hung up. No other calls between the women turned up. I still think you’re looking in the wrong area. Go back to Cincy, pick—”
“No.” Dean closed his laptop and tossed it on the end of the bed. “There are too many coincidences here. First Allison Martin and Lynne Addison are seen having lunch together two weeks before Lynne and her son disappeared—”
“Allison had just saved Miles from a prison sentence,” Nolan pointed out. “Lynne probably took her out to thank her.”
Two years ago Miles Addison had been accused of sexually assaulting one of the young boys who attended his after-school program for underprivileged youths. Allison Martin had been lead defense counsel on the case, earning an acquittal for the businessman and a prime partnership offer for herself.
“If the meeting was a thank-you lunch, why were they overheard arguing? And according to their waiter, Lynne stormed out before the food was even served.” Dean paced the length of the small room. “Add in the phone call the day Lynne and Jon disappeared, and the fact that Allison systematically cleaned out her personal bank account over a period of six months—starting the day before the Addisons disappeared. And considering she had to get a small business loan to purchase The Summit, where did the money go?”
“You’re reaching. For all you know she may be an addict and the money was for her dealer.”
Dean grabbed a large envelope from the side table and pulled out an eight-by-ten black-and-white photo of Allison. The picture had been taken during Addison’s trial, but even dressed in a conservative suit with her hair pulled back there was no denying her sex appeal. He tossed the picture aside. Allison wouldn’t be the first bright, driven, successful person to become an addict, but he couldn’t picture her using. She had too much confidence and self-awareness to allow something like drugs to control her.
He’d check into it just the same.
“Wherever the money went,” he said, “it doesn’t explain why, six months after the Addisons disappeared, Allison quit her job and returned to Serenity Springs. I’m telling you, there’s something here. I can feel it.”
“I’ll have to go with you on this one,” Nolan said. “But it’d be a lot easier if you could tell Martin that Lynne’s mother is looking for her, and ask her straight out if she knows where Lynne and Jon are.”
“When have we ever had a case that easy?”
“Never. But I can dream. Then I wouldn’t have to deal with Robin Hawley calling twice a day, wondering if we’ve found anything yet.”
Dean’s fingers tightened around his phone. “If she’d believed her daughter about what a scumbag her son-in-law is, instead of testifying for the prick during his trial, maybe she’d still have her daughter in her life.”
“You’re projecting again. This isn’t the same situation you went through with your family.”
No, but in the end, both he and Lynne Addison had been betrayed by the people they trusted the most. “Next time Robin calls, tell her to be patient and let us do our job.”
“You can’t blame her. If what she told us is true, Miles Addison is dangerous. She’s terrified he’s going to find Lynne before we do. And given the guy’s money and connections, she might be right.”
Dean stood and stretched his free arm overhead. “Either way, her bugging you isn’t going to help us find her daughter and grandson any sooner.”
“If we find them.”
“We will.” He couldn’t explain how or why he believed that, but he did. Just as he believed he was in the right place being in Serenity Springs. Dean tapped a finger on Allison’s picture. “Martin is a solid lead and I’m betting she has information that will steer me right to Lynne and Jon Addison. And I’m not leaving Serenity Springs until I know for sure.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“HOW’S THE NEW BARTENDER working out?”
Allie squeaked as she jumped and spun around. She covered her racing heart with her hand for a second before hitting Jack in the arm with a red cloth napkin.
“You’re thirty-three years old,” she said. “When are you going to stop sneaking up on me?”
He grinned, his blue eyes—so like her own—lit with humor. “When it stops being fun.” He set a stack of white dinner plates on the rectangular dining-room table. “Or when you stop jumping and squealing like a girl when I do it.”
And therein lay the rub. Jack was surprisingly stealthy for a man his size. She figured it was the cop in him that made him such an expert sneak. Plus, he always managed to catch her daydreaming. Like now.
Just because he’d asked about her new bartender didn’t mean he knew she’d been thinking about Dean. Questioning her decision to hire the cowboy. Wondering what he was hiding behind his sexy grin and guarded green eyes.
Her face heated and she ducked her head so that her hair fell forward, hiding the evidence of her blush as she folded napkins.
“Think this one will stick around for more than a few days?” Jack asked.
“‘This one’?” Helen Martin asked as she came into the room, carrying a basket filled with silverware.
As usual, their mother looked flawless. She had on a loose tunic the color of a new penny over a pair of khaki corduroy pants. With her dark hair skimming her shoulders in soft waves and her face not really showing many lines, it was no wonder people often mistook her for Allie’s older sister.
Jack began setting the plates on top of the red-and-white tablecloth. “Allie hired another bartender.”
Helen frowned as she set the basket at the end of the table. “What happened to that girl you hired last week?”
“It didn’t work out,” Allie mumbled.
She didn’t miss the loaded, wordless exchange that passed between her mother and brother. Allie squeezed a napkin in her hand, wrinkling the fabric. Seemed her entire family had that look down pat. It was part pity, part worry and part helplessness. As if they wanted to save her from herself but didn’t know how.
Thankfully, her parents were big on allowing their kids to make their own decisions, and not interfering with their lives. Though she suspected it about killed family members not to ask her why she’d moved back to Serenity Springs.
Especially Jack.
But she couldn’t tell her brother what happened, that a lapse in judg
ment had led her to make a huge mistake. Or what she’d done to rectify that mistake.
The oven timer buzzed. “There’s the pie,” Helen said, giving Allie’s back a quick, brisk rub. She turned to leave, then sighed. “Oh, will you look at them?”
Allie followed her mom’s gaze out the large picture window. “I thought you sent Dad out to get a load of firewood?”
“I did,” she said, wrapping her arm around Allie’s waist. “Emma insisted on helping him, and begged Kelsey to go out with them, as well.”
Jack stood on Helen’s other side and she linked her arm with his as they watched Larry Martin run through the knee-high snow pulling a giggling Emma on a red plastic sled. Duke, their large golden retriever, ran beside them, barking and trying to snatch Emma’s hat. Kelsey, her hands stuffed into the pockets of her puffy coat, brought up the rear.
Helen shook her head and laughed softly. “I guarantee your father’s going to regret that tomorrow.” The oven timer was still buzzing and, after giving Allie a quick squeeze, she left.
Jack put down the last two plates. “Kelsey doesn’t hold much hope this new bartender will work. Said her background was in theater and the only restaurant-bar experience she has is waiting tables.”
“Actually,” Allie said, placing a napkin to the left of each plate as she walked around the table, “that didn’t work out, either.”
Jack followed her, laying down silverware. “What do you mean?”
She acted casual as if she couldn’t feel Jack’s eyes were on her. “Just what I said. She found a better offer. Didn’t even work a day.”
“Things must’ve been pretty slow on a Saturday night if you got by without a bartender.”
“We were swamped.” She placed the last napkin and went to her mother’s antique cherry sideboard for glasses. “The spring breakers hit around nine and it didn’t slow until closing.”
“Why didn’t you call Kelsey?”
“She wasn’t feeling well. Speaking of which, she seems to have recovered.”
Jack followed her nod toward the window, to find Kelsey engaged in a rigorous snowball fight against Emma and Larry. Duke ran back and forth between the three, trying to catch snowballs in his mouth.
“She thinks it was something she ate.” He waved his hand in dismissal. “How did you manage without a bartender?”
“I had a bartender.” Allie avoided his eyes as she carried over two crystal water goblets at a time. “I hired one last night.”
“What? How?”
“I hired one of my earlier applicants.”
He snagged her wrist, stopping her before she could evade him again. “Tell me you didn’t.”
She smiled up at him and even added a few quick bats of her eyelashes for good measure. “Didn’t what?”
Jack, of course, didn’t buy her innocent act. “Didn’t hire the cowboy.”
“How did you know about him?”
He raised one eyebrow. “How do you think?”
She glared at her sister-in-law through the window. “Your wife has a big mouth. What do you two do? Is my business pillow talk or something?”
He let go of her and crossed his arms over his chest. Sent her his most authoritative cop look. Ha. As if he could ever intimidate her.
“Kelsey said you didn’t hire him because you didn’t trust him.”
“I changed my mind.”
“Did you check his résumé? Follow up on his references?”
“Of course I read his résumé.” She flipped her hair behind her shoulder. “I’m perfectly capable of hiring my own employees, you know.”
“If you were so good at it, why have you gone through a dozen bartenders since the summer?”
“Seven. I’ve had seven bartenders since July.” She crossed back to the sideboard for the rest of the glasses. “I’m not an idiot,” she snapped. “I can handle my business.”
“I realize you’re not an idiot. You’re one of the smartest people I know. But you also allow your emotions to get in the way of your sense sometimes.” He took hold of her arms, turning her so she faced him. “You can’t save the world, Allie.”
Her throat constricted and she pulled away from him. “I have no interest in saving the world.”
Not anymore. Not since she’d discovered that in the process, you sometimes save someone undeserving.
Too bad she hadn’t remembered that before she’d saved Dean from another take-out meal by inviting him to dinner.
“You can’t keep collecting strays. That kid you have working in the kitchen is a perfect example.”
“So I gave Richie a break.”
“He needs more than a break. He needs an intervention. Or better yet, a few months in lockup so he can detox.”
“How many times do I have to tell you he’s not on drugs? Not anymore.”
Jack stabbed a hand through his short, dark hair. “Just because an addict tells you he’s not using doesn’t make it true. No matter how much you want to believe it. And what about this new guy? What’s his issue? What do you even know about him?”
“I knew enough to hire him…because he was the only candidate for the job left!” she said, not caring that she sounded like a bratty, rebellious teenager.
If Jack would knock off the bossy big brother act, she wouldn’t have to get so defensive.
“Desperation is no excuse. Do you know his work experience? His previous places of employment?” Jack asked. God, he was like a pit bull once he sunk his teeth into something. “I bet you didn’t even check his background.”
She slammed a glass down so hard she was lucky the stem didn’t break off. “I know Dean can mix drinks and keep the bar running smoothly.” She also knew every female in the place had been half in lust with him. And that his kiss made her want to drop-kick her self-preservation instincts off a cliff. “He can also handle difficult situations—”
“Difficult situations? Like what? Running out of lemons?”
“No,” she said coldly, surprised the word didn’t come out in a little burst of frost. “Things like handling a large, belligerent drunk and two of his friends who refused to leave at closing time.”
A muscle jumped in Jack’s jaw. “What happened?”
She waved her hand in the air. “Nothing I couldn’t handle. Well, nothing Dean and I couldn’t handle. Which is just the point. I’m a grown woman completely capable of taking care of myself and my business.”
“If someone was giving you a hard time, you should’ve called me—”
“No. I shouldn’t have. I don’t need rescuing, Jack, and even if I did, it wouldn’t be your job. Besides,” she continued before he could argue, “as much as I love that you want to protect me, what I need even more from you is some trust. In me. In my decisions.”
“Trust?” he asked, so harshly she winced. He glanced at the doorway to the kitchen and pulled her to the far corner, lowering his voice. “You don’t want us to trust you. What you want is for us to sit on our hands and smile while you run from whatever it was that happened in New York. Whatever sent you back to Serenity Springs.”
She tucked her trembling hands behind her back. “I’m not run—”
“Bullshit.”
She shoved a chair into the table with enough force to rattle the glassware. “I told you when I bought The Summit why I came back. I was burned out. Disillusioned.” Both of which were more true than he’d ever know. “I was working over seventy hours a week. I had no social life and no time for myself. What I did have was an endless caseload and the beginnings of an ulcer.”
“You knew you’d have to work hard,” Jack pointed out, bless his pragmatic heart. “All you talked about since graduating from law school was making partner at a prestigious firm before you were thirty-five.”
“Sometimes what we want and what’s best for us are two different things.” She edged past him and went to the head of the table. Flipped the knife over so the edge faced the plate. “That’s what I realized when I was offered
the partnership.” She slid the spoon down so the bottom of it was flush with the bottom of the knife. “It was the moment I’d worked so hard for, but when it was within my grasp, I knew it was wrong for me.”
“I understand you wanted a break, that you wanted to come home,” he said as he sat in the chair to her left. “I felt the same way after Nicole died. But what I don’t understand is why you gave up practicing law altogether. Why buy a bar? Why not start your own practice right here?”
“I didn’t like what had become of my life. What I’d become.” She told him the truth. As much of it as she could admit, anyway.
“See?” Jack leaned forward. “That’s what I’m talking about. What do you mean, you didn’t like who you’d become?” When she remained silent he caught her hand, tugged on it until she lifted her head. “Talk to me. I want to help you.”
She forced a laugh. Ignored how hollow it sounded. “I don’t need any help. I’m fine. Better than fine.” She pulled free of his hold. “I own my own home and my own business, which is growing and thriving. Deciding to step away from practicing law wasn’t an easy decision—actually, it was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make—but I made the right choice. All I need now is for the people I love to believe that as well.”
She held her breath as he took in what she’d said. “I do believe you coming home was for the best,” he said. “Never doubt that.”
She exhaled softly. Thank God. Maybe this time she’d finally gotten through to him. Her big brother was nothing if not incredibly stubborn.
“What I don’t believe,” he said, “are any of the reasons you gave me for why you came home. But I’m willing to let it drop. For now. When you’re ready to tell me the whole truth, I’ll be waiting.”
She kept her shoulders back and pressed a hand against her churning stomach. As soon as Jack left the room, she slumped into a chair, but the nausea remained. How could she tell him what had really happened? What she’d done, why she’d returned to Serenity Springs? If he knew, he’d try to stop her.