“I’ve used the barn near Triune Point as a studio in the past. I can paint there while you have use of the cabin. I promise I won’t knock on your door without an invitation.”
Something in the reassurance disappointed.
The lake flashed before her eyes. The hyacinths blooms would fade, all too soon. Still…
“The cabin is unlocked.”
“Small detail. I’ll have one of the groundskeepers put a lock on both doors.”
“It’s rather isolated.”
“You needn’t worry about unwelcomed guests. I have security cameras all over the estate. There’s an intercom and panic button in the cabin. As for your car, the road where you hit the moose is actually an access road to the cabin. Granted, it’s a bit rough in places, but usable by car. And I’ll loan you the Max II so you can roam the property at will, ride on the lake if you want.”
He’d answered every objection except the one she couldn’t voice. What do I do if you try to kiss me again?
Jonathan cracked another lopsided smile at her hesitancy. “Sam, are you afraid I’ll take advantage of you?”
On some level, she wished he would.
“You needn’t worry. I might wear jeans, flannel shirts, and sport a beard, but underneath beats the heart of a well-bred gentleman. And while you are a very attractive woman, I am no more interested in pursuing a relationship than you are.”
Her cheeks warmed to think she’d fantasized his interest, their kiss nothing more than a heated moment. “Well, then. I guess I can’t come up with any more objections.” She extended her hand, and they pumped the air like two farmers swapping the back forty. “We’ve got a deal. You have a lawyer, and I have a client and a place to live. I’ll write up a retainer agreement. Then I’ll move in.”
He leaned in; a whiff of hyacinths encircled him, a scented halo, strangely arousing her senses. “When?”
She traced his lips with her imagination, remembering their kiss. “Tomorrow.”
28
Justine rushed at Sam the second she came into Sadie’s store. “Whoa. You didn’t tell me how cute he was!”
“Cute?”
“A mountain man with talent. Rich, too. Don’t let that one get away.”
“Are you kidding? The man’s carrying around too much emotional baggage.”
Justine huffed. “Like you’re not?”
True enough. Sam had her own truckload to deal with—all the more reason not to get involved with Jonathan, although he did dangle sensuality like Aaron sank a lure. Only, Jonathan had no desire to reel Sam in—baited with no hope of being caught.
Not Zack. Zack wouldn’t toy with her emotions. He embodied purity and kindness—and easy to look at, too. Where Jonathan both repulsed and magnetized her, Zack held her admiration, a much better proposition in Sam’s book of The Ten Most Desirable Traits in a Man, and the clincher—Zack wanted her.
“I’m interested in someone else, Justine. Since I’m going to be stuck in Haven for awhile, maybe I’ll pursue a relationship with him. He seems to like me at least as much as I like him. Jonathan Gladstone is a client, nothing more. Oh, and my landlord. I’m moving into his cabin tomorrow.”
Abe frowned. “You know better than to mix your practice and personal life. This can’t end well.”
The days of feasting on Abe Hilderman’s legal genius were over. Who was he to give Sam advice? Traitor. “I wouldn’t have to if someone I know hadn’t fed me to the wolves.”
Abe shrugged and previewed a set of Little House on the Prairie books. “My niece loves these.”
“Abe, while I appreciate your concern, there is nothing personal between Jonathan and me. The cabin is part of my fees—his idea, not mine. Besides, the arrangement is temporary. You did promise me, you’d get me reinstated, didn’t you?”
Abe peered at her over his glasses. “Sam, I know what I promised, and I intend to keep that promise. But, there are alternatives to returning to Center Street. Maybe all this trouble will give you a chance to explore those options. Maybe start over somewhere else…like Haven. You seem happy here.”
Dead moose eyes haunted her. “I’m a city girl, Abe.”
Justine pushed Abe aside. “Enough, you two. I want to hear more about Sam’s intended love interest. Lots more. Let’s pay for our stuff and go someplace where we can chat.”
Abe waved them on ahead. “Give me your selections, Justine. You and Sam go on, and I’ll meet you outside.”
Sam picked up three legal pads and a leather binder then shoved them at Abe. “While you’re at it, you can pay for these, too.”
She huffed her way outside with Justine close behind. “When do we meet Zack?”
“I could call and ask him to stop at the library with his father. In the meantime, we can take a walk around town.”
“Sounds like a plan.” Justine glanced toward the row of parked cars. “We brought up those things you asked for, including your spare laptop and Satellite Internet card. I know you, Sam, and I know you’re up to something. You’re too calm. The Sam I know would have told Abe to get out of her sight, my wedding or not.”
Sam puffed her cheeks in denial. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“You’re not going to let go, are you?”
“How do you know that I’m not taking Abe’s advice to heart—starting over?”
“Like I said, I know you. Let the case go, Sam. Lie the helm.”
“Excuse me?”
“Heave to and ride out the storm.”
Sam chewed her lip. “I can’t, Justine.”
“Fine. I’ll feed the info to you…but if I lose my job—”
“I don’t want you to get in trouble…but I could use an insider.”
Abe rejoined them with their purchases. “Justine, you owe me ten dollars and thirty-two cents. Sam, consider yours a gift.”
Sam laughed in spite of her grim mood. She was still angry enough to hang Abe in effigy and not feel the least remorse, but Abe was Abe, a man defined by his desires, not much different than Harlan’s girlfriend. Brenda Smith’s loyalties depended upon whose wallet was the heaviest. Abe’s allegiance bent according to his definition of justice. Perhaps every son and daughter of Adam drummed their existence according to what defined them. If so, to what beat did Sam Knowles dance?
Sam walked Justine and Abe to the parking lot to retrieve her belongings. “You two go ahead and explore Main Street, and I’ll catch up after I dump these things in my room.”
Abe dropped his double chin to his chest and looked up. “Remember, Sam. Let the case go.”
Sam turned and gave Abe a shrug.
Abe shook his head. If he knew her as Sam thought he did, he knew distance would never stop her from stalking the Styles case, and this time he could not look the other way, widening the wedge between them, perhaps so deep it could never be healed.
A whisper in her soul argued against interfering, a warning Sam chose to ignore. She set her computer on her bed, plugged in her wireless connection, booted up her accounts then transferred more assets to the Haven bank.
“Desperate times called for desperate measures,” Great Aunt Susie often quipped. If these desperate times meant Sam had to deplete all her resources, then so be it. No better way to spend Daddy’s money. She closed her laptop, slid it under her bed and traipsed down the steps and out the door.
Zack came in at the same second Sam started out. He pulled her into him to avoid a collision, holding her a few seconds more than necessary, searching her eyes, and this time she initiated a kiss. “Well, Mr. Bordeaux. We have to stop meeting like this. People will talk.” She played her eyes, hoping he’d read her intent. Zack pulled her closer and kissed her. She put everything she had into her return kiss.
By the look in Zack’s eyes, he got her message. “Tonight? Maybe a movie?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
“Do you need help moving tomorrow?”
“You know already?”
“Jonathan called me
.”
These two men had their own grapevine, faster than any ten women Sam knew. “Thanks for the offer. Maybe. Right now, come with me to the library. Justine wants to meet you, that is, if I can pry her away from your father.”
29
Harlan eased himself into Reg’s lumpy recliner, the entire apartment not even as big as Brenda’s closet. “Thanks for letting me bunk with you, Reg. Made it quicker to get out if I didn’t have to wait for the social worker to find me a place. I knew I could count on you.”
“What’s a brother for, Harlan? Still can’t get over how quick you got this deal. It took my friend Earl six months to negotiate house arrest.”
“I’ve wondered about that myself. Washington and Hilderman had a few confabs even before I went to prison. I finally figured it out. I was set up, Reg…by Jay.”
“Why?”
Harlan squeezed his head. He should have seen it coming, should have guessed. He would have if Brenda hadn’t distracted him. Then again, this whole mess had been Brenda’s fault. He’d crossed Jay because of her. He took Brenda to bed with both eyes opened, knowing this day would come, the only mystery…how it would unfold.
“Circle of life, Reg.”
“I don’t get what you mean, Harlan. Course, you’re the one that got yourself that fancy education.”
“Let me connect the dots for you. I crossed Jay when I got tangled up with Brenda. Now why on earth would Jay send me his highest paid attorney, pretend like all was forgiven? Who does Jay want to see out of the picture more than me?”
“Ingram.”
“Who does Hilderman want to see out of the picture more than Jay?”
“Ingram.”
“Bingo.”
Reg whistled. “You mean you ratted on Ingram? What’d you do a thing like that for, Harlan? If you knew the score, why did you fall into Jay’s trap?”
Harlan took a long drag on his cigarette. “Only way I could get out. I’m dead no matter what, even if I zippered shut. Ingram won’t take the chance now that a deal’s been offered. Jay knew that, too. But before I leave this earth, I’ve got me a score to settle.” He leaned back, the weight of the ankle bracelet, a reminder of all he’d lost, Brenda, his money, his cars, his life—all because of Knowles. At least if he ran, Ingram would have a harder time finding him, buy a few extra days of breathing. Time enough.
Harlan bit his lip, afraid to ask but he had to know. “Where is she, Reg? Brenda, I mean.”
“I told you, I don’t know.”
Harlan shot out of his chair and put Reg in a strangle hold until he gurgled, close to his last breath. “Tell me, Reg, or I swear I’ll finish you off right now.”
Reg squeaked out an OK, and Harlan let go. “Geez, Harlan. Take it easy. I hear she’s living with Ingram.”
“Ingram?” So, Jay would get rid of all his headaches at once.
“She ain’t worth it, Harlan. Look what that broad’s done to you. She’s the one you should kill, not Knowles.”
Harlan sat back and buried his head in his hands. “Brenda’s who she is. This time the viper bit herself.”
“You always talk riddles, Harlan.” Reg sat on his urine soaked couch, the stench alone enough to suffocate a man.
“Where’s the revolver, Reg?”
“In my gym bag. Washington said he got you some privileges, shopping, doctor’s office—didn’t know you had a heart condition—Bally’s and church. Church, Harlan? Since when did you get religion?”
“Shut up, Reg.”
“See, Harlan? House arrest ain’t so bad. Why you want to mess it up?”
“I had to sing a whole movie scroll to get those privileges.”
“Figured something like that. Hilderman’s no dummy.”
“Washington managed to convince Hilderman that I wanted to make things right, make up for Kiley’s accident. Hilderman wants that promotion so bad he’d take a rain check on the Rapture to get Ingram. Don’t know if he bought my sudden conversion or not. I had to go to a bunch of Bible meetings to look convincing.”
“Don’t seem right, Harlan, you taking the rap for Brenda like you did and her goin’ off with those hoodlums. You treated her right and look what she done—you with your life tickin’ away and her sipping champagne by Ingram’s indoor pool.”
Let her sip while she had breath. Who would Ingram slice first? Brenda? Harlan closed his eyes again, imagined Brenda in her bikini stretched out in the blood-stained water, the scent of blood mingled with her expensive perfume. The ankle bracelet pinched, idiot monitors got it too tight. Didn’t matter, he wouldn’t be alive more than another few days. If he had to die, so would Knowles. A life for a life.
Reg wrung his hands. “You mean to do it, then. Kill Knowles? You’re insane. If you stayed put, a year can go by pretty fast.”
Harlan leaned back and closed his eyes. “I have to. My kind of justice.”
“You won’t get very far before the cops find you. You’ll go back to the slammer. Ain’t killin’ an ADA like killing a cop? Ingram won’t be the only one after you, then.”
“Don’t matter, Reg. I told you, I’m a dead man no matter what.”
“You don’t know that for sure. I thought Hilderman promised protection.”
Harlan pushed out a laugh and lit another cigarette. “Do you think that’s going to bother Ingram? If I can figure out a way past those goons outside, don’t you think Ingram will, too? You don’t get it, Reg. I spilled it all. Jay, too. Question is, who’s going to find me first?”
Reg squeaked, like he had when they were kids and he was scared. “You are dead, man. Say…what if Ingram or Jay comes looking for you tonight? If you wanna get yourself killed, there ain’t nothin’ I can do about it, but why you getting’ me in the middle of it? Want to get me killed, too?”
Harlan blew out three rings, and took another drag. Reg’s reasoning capacity was as cramped as his apartment. “Don’t worry. Neither one of us will be here, tonight.”
“What’s the plan, Harlan?”
“We’re going to the gym and you’re getting your bag out of your locker, then I’m having a heart attack. You’re calling an ambulance and notifying my case manager that I’m being taken to the hospital. Only, the ambulance won’t get out of the gym parking lot. Make sure you slip me the revolver and the keys to your jalopy.”
“And the goons?”
“That girl at the counter, Roxanne, she owes me a few favors. She’ll keep them occupied.”
Reg smiled. “Clever. Might even work, though these newfangled devices are pretty hard to fool. They’ll be after you soon enough.”
“I only need a head start. You got those directions?”
Reg threw him a scrawled map. “Managed to find as many cow paths as I could.”
“And do me one more favor.”
“Sure, anything, bro.”
“Make sure they play the bagpipes at my funeral. I’m partial to bagpipes—Danny Boy—not Amazing Grace. No grace where I’m headed.”
Reg’s smile disappeared, replaced by concern. “Don’t like it when you talk that way, Harlan. You should have something to eat before we go to Bally’s.”
“Absolutely…Mexican?”
“Got all kinds of stuff…but…oh, I get it…indigestion, heh?”
Harlan put out his cigarette, lit another one, and sucked in a long drag. Reg busied himself in the kitchen, making extra spicy tacos. Reg couldn’t get more than one down, and Harlan forced himself to eat six.
Complicated plan, but it had to work. He deserved this one slice of satisfaction before he died. He’d make Knowles sweat it out an hour or so, treat her like the animal she thought he was, satisfy himself with her, then like a sick dog, put her out of her misery.
He’d never taken a life before, not on purpose—that cop fiasco wasn’t his fault—he didn’t pull the trigger, though he gave Damien the gun. Hell’s gate swung open ready to welcome Harlan Styles. Might as well rack up a few extra points for the devil to congratul
ate him on.
The added spice on his tacos did the trick. His stomach soured like never before. He tucked his pack of Camels into his shirt pocket. “You know, Reg, they say the Adirondacks are real pretty this time of year.”
30
Zack let go of Sam’s hand while she said goodbye to her friends and imagined how the night might go, still reeling at Sam’s sudden passion toward him.
Justine ducked into the car, extending her thumb and pinky as she spoke. “Call me.”
Sam smiled. “I’ll email you after I move into the cabin tomorrow.”
Abe adjusted the rearview mirror. “One last warning, Sam. Stay clear of the Styles case.” He revved the engine as he shook his head. “Keep an eye on her, Zack.”
Wrapping one arm around Sam’s waist, Zack shook hands with Abe. “I’ll do my best.” As Abe’s Cadillac pulled away, Justine gave a papal-like wave from the passenger side.
“Is that some sort of secret signal between you two?” Zack asked.
“That’s her blessing. She likes you.”
He leaned in, hoping for another kiss, but Sam tugged at his sleeve. “Come on. Let’s eat. I thought I smelled spaghetti sauce cooking when we left. ”
Oregano and onion aromas vied for dominance and guests dug into steaming plates of pasta lathered in Aunt Hilda’s Ancestral Sauce—according to Aunt Sadie, a recipe handed down over past generations.
Zack and Sam sat by the fireplace, her gaze waltzing in rhythm with his hopes. His palms sweated. Yesterday, he’d assumed the door had closed where Sam was concerned. Something changed her mind. Maybe he shouldn’t dig too deep and accept his good fortune. “So…uh… what movie did you want to see later?”
“Is there a theater in town?”
“No. Generally I go into Albany or Glens Falls if I want to see a new movie. Most of the time, I settle for rental. ”
Sam gazed away, a far off look, her mind seemingly in some distant place.
“There’s the library, too…if you don’t mind watching something as old as my grandmother.”
The Other Side of Darkness Page 20