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Never Alone (43 Light Street)

Page 18

by Rebecca York


  Jo cleared her throat. “Is there anything you need? Anything I can get for you?”

  Feeling like an intruder, she managed to say, “No. I’m bushed.” Then, turning quickly, she escaped to the privacy of the bedroom.

  BETH WOKE to the sound of high-pitched voices. Children. Crossing to the window, she pulled the heavy drapes aside and saw a boy and a girl playing on playground equipment that looked as if it belonged in a public park. The little girl, who appeared to be about three, was sitting on a small merry-go-round, squealing in delight as Jo O’Malley pushed her. The boy, who might have been five, was enthusiastically pumping a swing.

  The girl said something and Jo stopped the merry-go-round, took the child’s hand and led her to a seesaw. Granger was watching the action from the sidelines. If he was upset by their sudden move last night, he wasn’t showing it.

  The scene made Beth smile, until she remembered why Cal had left her here the night before. He thought she was in danger. Maybe he was right, but she still felt like an intruder in this grand household.

  Still, she wasn’t going to hide in her room. So she crossed the thick carpet to the bathroom and took a quick shower before changing into a skirt, blouse and sandals she’d packed the night before.

  Downstairs, she found a door at the back of the house and came outside. Granger bounded over, greeting her enthusiastically.

  “Good boy,” she murmured. “Good boy.”

  Jo O’Malley came toward her. “I fed him when I gave the kids breakfast. I hope that’s all right.”

  “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

  The little girl had followed her mother over. “Finally, you’re awake,” she said. “I’m Anna. And this is my brother Leo. I like your dog.”

  Beth came down to their level. “I’m glad you like Granger. And I’m pleased to meet you,” she said.

  “Mommy says you’re staying here before you get married. That means you’re going on a honeymoon. And you’re going to sleep in the same bed with Cal—like Mommy and Daddy sleep in the same bed. And you can make babies, too.”

  Beth flushed. Before she could think of what to say, the boy stepped forward. “Anna talks too much,” he said, his voice scornful. “Because she’s little.”

  “I don’t mind,” Beth said.

  Jo made a quick change of subject. “What do you want for breakfast?” she asked Beth, ushering the children inside. “I’ve already eaten, but I can have a cup of coffee with you.”

  “I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”

  “I’m not. Mrs. Marsdon made blueberry muffins this morning. And a ham and broccoli quiche. They’re all ready.”

  “The muffins would be fine,” Beth said.

  After a maid came in and took the children away, Beth gave her hostess a little smile. “They’re charming.”

  Jo laughed. “They were warned to be on their best behavior. But you see where that got me with Anna. She’s really interested in mommies and daddies at the moment. Sorry about the personal comments.”

  “That’s okay. Um, can I help you do anything?”

  “The coffee cups are in the last cabinet on the right.” Jo pointed.

  A few minutes later, they were sitting in the sunny breakfast nook.

  “I should have thanked you last night for taking me and Granger in,” Beth said as she broke off a piece of muffin.

  “You looked shell-shocked last night.”

  For more than one reason, Beth thought. Instead of focusing on the awkwardness of being dumped here like a displaced person, she said, “I guess I was. I guess Cal talked to you about the reunion murders?”

  Jo nodded. “He thinks the killer has turned his focus on you.”

  Beth’s fingers clutched on the handle of her spoon. She hadn’t expected Jo to be quite so direct. But then, she reminded herself, Jo was a private detective when she wasn’t being a mommy.

  “I don’t know,” she murmured.

  “Then trust his judgment. He’s a good cop.”

  She set down her spoon and began crumbling her muffin into smaller pieces.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you,” Jo murmured. “Mentioning the murders.”

  Beth sucked in a breath and let it out. “Actually, I was thinking about me and Cal. The question is, did he bring me here because he feels guilty about dragging me into his case or because he really cares about me?”

  “I think his asking you to marry him answers that question,” Jo pointed out. “He told me his plans when he asked if you could stay here.”

  “I guess he was pretty confident that I’d give him the answer he wanted.”

  “No. He wasn’t. But he sounded determined.”

  The news was a revelation to Beth. But she still felt compelled to point out, “It wasn’t a very romantic proposal. It was more like a bodyguard situation.”

  “Yes, well…some men are afraid to show what they’re really feeling. You know, there was a study not so long ago about how divorce affects children. Long into adulthood, they still have commitment issues. And if just having your parents get divorced is traumatic, imagine growing up with a mother who’d abandoned you and a father who was bitter about his wife running out on him.”

  Beth stared at the woman across the table. “You must have been talking to Hannah.”

  “Actually, I have, since she works with me at the Light Street Detective Agency. But I’m a pretty good observer of people, too. Cal and I worked together on a couple of cases in the city, so I’ve had a chance to get to know him.”

  They were interrupted by a noise in the hall. Then Cal strode into the room.

  His gaze shot to Beth, and she immediately felt guilty about discussing him. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

  She nodded.

  He seemed to relax several notches. “Then let’s go get the license thing over with.”

  “The license thing,” she repeated, unable to stop herself from sliding Jo a look as she pushed back her chair, leaving her muffin and coffee on the table.

  As they drove back to Howard County, Cal seemed to withdraw behind a wall—like the wall in his sky. Only this time she couldn’t find a way through.

  His silence continued as they pulled into the parking lot up the hill from the county courthouse. Beth remembered it from trips to Ellicott City with her parents as a dignified stone building, but somewhere along the line it had been remodeled and expanded with white marble that left it looking like a puffed-up wedding cake.

  The image was appropriate, she thought as they found the room where marriage licenses were issued. There was nothing romantic about the office, though, or about Cal’s behavior. He was all business as he requested the proper form.

  She’d memorized his early history for her role as his pretend wife. She knew his birthday and where he’d gone to school. Now she learned his address for the first time, learned that his middle name was William.

  When she looked at the form and gave a startled laugh, he glanced up at her sharply. “What?”

  She pointed to one of the questions. “They’re asking if we’re related.”

  “So?”

  “Don’t you think that’s an odd question?”

  He shrugged.

  Shaking her head, she went back to the application.

  He paid the fee, pocketed the receipt, then ushered her out of the building fifteen minutes after they’d climbed the marble steps.

  As they walked back up the hill to the parking lot, she studied him covertly, wondering what thoughts were flickering behind his grim profile. Was he regretting his impulsive announcement of yesterday and now he didn’t know how to back out? She was working up her nerve to ask him, when his phone buzzed.

  Whipping it out of his pocket, he punched the button and spoke. “Rollins.”

  She couldn’t hear the conversation on the other end of the line, but from Cal’s face, she gathered it wasn’t good news.

  “What’s happened?” she asked as he ended the conversation.
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br />   He looked around the parking lot. “Wait till we get in the car.” Once the doors were closed, he turned to her. “That was a buddy of mine in the department giving me a heads up.

  “There’s no easy way to tell you this. There’s a man out at the farm—dead.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Beth felt the breath solidify in her lungs. When she could speak again, she managed to say, “How?”

  “It looks like he’s been murdered. We’re going out there to get the scoop,” he said, backing out of the parking space and heading toward Route 40. He swung his head toward her briefly. “You didn’t have any…vibrations.”

  “I haven’t had any vibrations since that night in the hospital when you woke up! Maybe I—I used up all the power I had.”

  “You think so?”

  “Do I detect a note of relief in your voice?”

  “No!” he snapped. “I’m just trying to get at the facts.”

  He cut her another quick glance, then flicked his eyes back to the road, but his tense features spoke volumes.

  “What aren’t you telling me?” she asked.

  “He was found in your bedroom.”

  “My bedroom?” she gasped. “What was he doing there?”

  “I’d like the answer to that question myself.”

  “There’s nobody I’ve entertained in my bedroom.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She didn’t like the neutral sound of his voice. Then another question struck her. “Who found him? I mean, how did anyone know he was there?”

  “An anonymous tip—from a phone booth on Route 144.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, pressed her fingers to her temple.

  “Your head hurt?”

  “Yes. But it’s not because I’m getting any calls from the psychic hot line. A man is dead in my bedroom. I guess I’m not going to be sleeping there any time soon.”

  He gave a tight nod.

  A police car was blocking the entrance to her lane, but when the officer inside saw Cal, he waved him through.

  They pulled into the yard behind another cruiser, several unmarked cars and an ambulance.

  Before getting out of the car, Cal took his gun from his holster and laid it on the floor.

  “Why are you doing that?”

  “I’m not here on official business.”

  As they walked toward the front porch, the burly man who’d confronted her in the hospital came down the steps.

  Lieutenant Patterson.

  His gaze shot to Cal. “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “This was my case.”

  “You’re on sick leave.”

  “And the department can’t dictate how I spend my time. Beth is a friend of mine. I’m out here to be with her.”

  Patterson’s gaze shot from Cal to her, then back again.

  “And how exactly did you know to show up at a murder scene?”

  “I could have been listening to my police scanner,” Cal said blandly.

  FROM HIS HIDING PLACE in the woods a half mile away, Damien watched the action through high-powered binoculars.

  “Too bad I can’t get any closer,” he muttered. “But this is almost as good.”

  The binoculars had cost him a mint, but it was worth it to see the expressions on everyone’s face.

  “It’s hard to know which is better,” he murmured. “This stuff or what I got from that guy Harold Mason.”

  He hadn’t planned on doing the poor jerk when he’d come out to the farm. But he’d known it was necessary as soon as the guy had spotted him poking around the house and demanded to know what he was doing there. Damien had pulled out a gun and explained that he was the one asking the questions.

  Once he’d gotten what he could out of Beth’s unwanted visitor, he’d killed him—to send her and her detective friend a message.

  From the looks on their faces, the guy’s murder had had the desired effect.

  “Now all I have to do is find out where Rollins has taken her into protective custody, and I can snatch her up, because even if the guy’s put himself on guard duty, he can’t stick with her twenty-four-seven,” Damien murmured as he watched them through the glasses.

  AS BETH WATCHED Patterson and Cal eyeing each other like dangerous animals deciding where to strike to inflict the most damage, she had a better understanding of why he’d taken off his gun. If he wasn’t here on official business, the weapon might have looked like a challenge to his lieutenant.

  “I told you the guy you had in custody wasn’t the reunion killer,” Cal said in a flat voice.

  “Oh yeah? What does this murder have to do with the reunion?”

  “You’re trying to tell me it’s just a coincidence that Beth’s face is flashed across the evening news after the meeting, she makes the morning paper, then a guy turns up dead at her farm?”

  “Dead in her bedroom.”

  She cringed. There it was again. The innuendo.

  Only this time Cal’s attitude was a little different. “What’s that supposed to signify?” he asked, his voice low and even.

  “You tell me.” Patterson switched his gaze from Cal to her. “Detective Shane has been trying to get in touch with you. Where were you last night?”

  “At the home of Cameron Randolph and Jo O’Malley,” Cal answered for her.

  “Let the lady speak for herself,” Patterson said.

  Cal pressed his lips together.

  Beth fought the queasy feeling in her stomach and, clearing her throat, said, “Cal was worried about me. He came out last night and asked if I’d mind staying with Jo O’Malley. I agreed.”

  “And you came back here when someone told him about the murder?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you didn’t leave the estate last night?”

  “I think Beth told you where she was,” Cal snapped. “She’s through answering questions, so stop trying to get to me through her. Or are you planning to bring her down to the station and read her her rights?”

  “What are you, her lawyer now?” Patterson asked. “Is there some reason she shouldn’t want to answer questions about a murder in her house?”

  “No. I’m just looking out for her interests.”

  The lieutenant turned back to Beth. “I’m not taking you anywhere, but I want to know where I can reach you.”

  “At the Randolph estate, like I told you,” Cal said, reeling off the phone number. Then he asked, “You got an ID on the dead man?”

  “Harold Mason.”

  “I…don’t know him,” Beth murmured. “Who is he?”

  “You tell me,” Patterson demanded.

  “I can’t.”

  “He’s a land developer working in the county,” Cal said.

  Beth’s head whipped toward him. “What? How do you know?”

  “His car was parked at the end of your driveway a few days ago. I ran his license plate.”

  “You got any more information on him?” Patterson demanded.

  “No. I wish to hell I had.”

  Patterson stared at him for a long moment. Then, turning on his heel, he walked back into the house.

  Stunned, Beth stared after him. “Read me my rights?” she managed to say. “Are you saying I’m a suspect? In the murder of a man I don’t even know.”

  “You sure as hell better not be,” Cal answered. Firmly taking her arm, he escorted her back to the car.

  “What was he doing here?” she whispered.

  “Alex Shane will find out.”

  Beth was too numb to say much on the ride back to Jo’s. This time, when they arrived at the gate, Cal had the number code, so he was able to buzz them right through.

  There must have been an alarm in the house alerting Jo to their arrival, because she was standing under the portico when they drove up. From the look on her face, Beth was certain that she’d already heard about the murder.

  In fact, as soon as he climbed out of the car she and Cal started talking about how to apprehend th
e killer—leaving her feeling like a third wheel on a bike as she stood beside them.

  “I’m going back to that high-school database,” Cal said. “I’m going to eliminate every name I can from the list. If I can narrow it down, then we’ve got a shot at finding the guy quickly.”

  “What do you want me to do?” Jo asked.

  “Keep Beth safe.” He stopped, ran a hand over his face. “I’ll arrange for a wedding ceremony with one of the judges down at the courthouse on Thursday morning. Can you drive her there?”

  “Of course. And I was thinking that Beth and I would go looking for a wedding dress at Owings Mills Mall,” Jo answered. “But maybe we’d better stay on the estate until the ceremony.”

  “I’ll pay for extra security,” Cal said.

  “You don’t have to pay. My husband owns Randolph Security, remember?”

  “Yeah, right.”

  At that point, Beth couldn’t stop herself from breaking into the conversation. “You’re going to treat me like a prisoner? Don’t I get any say in any of this?”

  They both turned to her. “I’m sorry if it sounded like we were ignoring you,” Jo said quietly. “If you have any suggestions, we’ll be glad to hear them.”

  Unable to think of any, she shook her head.

  “Then it’s settled.” Cal started back to his car.

  “Wait!” Beth called.

  He stopped and turned toward her with a preoccupied expression on his face.

  “Then I won’t see you again until the wedding?” she asked in a low voice.

  “Yeah. It’s better that way.”

  She wanted to ask him why. After the scene at the farm, she wanted him to at least hug her goodbye. She only gave him a tight nod, then watched him drive away.

  When the car was out of sight, Jo scuffed her foot against a paving brick. “Sorry.”

  “About what?”

  “About me and Cal taking over like that.”

  Beth shrugged.

  “I wasn’t thinking,” Jo said. “I should have disappeared inside and given you guys some time alone.”

  “It doesn’t look like he wants any time alone.”

 

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