Dane emerged from the ER cubicle an hour later, his shirt partially unbuttoned and his jacket draped over his arm. Annie ran to him, but stopped before throwing her arms around him. She reached up, caressed his face and smiled.
“I’m okay,” he told her, then nodded to the police chief. “We have to keep the bandages changed and the wound cleaned and I get the sutures out in about a week.”
“Annie told me that she didn’t get a good look at the shooter,” Milton Holman said. “How about you, Carmichael?”
“He never lowered the window enough to enable me to get a good look at him. All I saw was the rifle.”
“Well, we questioned your neighbors, Ms. Kimball and Mr. Porter,” Chief Holman said. “They heard the rifle shots and came outside just in time to see the car speeding away. I just wish somebody had gotten a look at the guy’s face.”
Dane wasn’t a hundred percent sure Jason Webber had been their attacker the night at the lake cottage or today, but his gut instincts told Dane that it had been Webber. And if he was right, then someone was giving Webber his orders? Who? Dickie Hughes? Maybe Royce Layman? Or even Richard?
“I’ll keep y’all posted,” Holman told them. “Sheriff Brewer and I want to find the person who’s been using y’all for target practice. I’m going to put more men on the case and I’ll suggest to Dwight he do the same. Together we’ll crack this case.”
Chief Holman escorted them home and made sure they were safely ensconced inside, then he posted one of his men outside and told Annie that he could spare the man for twenty-four hours.
Dane shook hands with Holman and thanked him. “I’ll have another Dundee agent here by morning.”
Annie snapped her head around and stared at Dane. “Another agent? Why? Besides, I didn’t think anyone was available.”
“Until this wound heals, I won’t be a hundred percent effective. Ellen can get in touch with Sam and, if necessary, he can round up one of his former agents to help us out. He can either come here or he can take over the office for Ellen so she can fly in tomorrow.” Dane walked through the kitchen and into the den. He laid his coat across the back of the sofa and sat.
“We’ll keep a man posted outside until you get reinforcements, Carmichael.” The chief held his hat in his hand and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “We have to get this case solved as soon as possible. The newspapers and television stations will have a heyday with this one. They’re still making a big deal out of the lake house shooting.”
“Find out just where that car was stolen from and when, and let me know,” Dane said. “I have a hunch on this one.” Dane would bet money that the car had been stolen from the parking lot at Hughes Chemicals and Plastics. He just wondered if, after his and Annie’s visit, someone had reacted too quickly and issued a hotheaded order? Or had Webber acted on his own and gone off half-cocked?
Holman nodded to Dane and then followed Annie into the kitchen. She walked him to the back door, thanked him for his help, securely locked the door and adjusted the security system.
“I called Mother from the hospital,” Annie told Dane as she returned to the den. “But I need to call her again to let her know that we’re home and—”
“Talk to your uncle,” Dane told her. “See if he has any idea where Richard is or how I can contact him.”
“Even if Uncle Royce knows and shares that information with us, what makes you think Richard is going to talk to you?”
“I don’t know for sure, but if he refuses to speak to me, then I’ll know he’s somehow involved.”
A sultry blonde and a man the size of a Mack truck walked into Annie’s house. “Sam has taken over the office for me,” the blonde said to Dane. “And Murdock’s case wound up late yesterday.”
“Annie, I’d like for you to meet Denby and Murdock,” Dane said.
“How do you do?” Annie had pictured Ellen Denby as an unfeminine, rough-looking gal who walked and talked like a man, not as a beautiful young woman with a sexy voice and curvaceous body.
Denby nodded, but didn’t offer a smile. However, Murdock grinned broadly and said, “Nice to meet you, ma’am.”
“Sam told us to stay here as long as you need us,” Denby said. “Or if you’d like to return to Atlanta—” Denby glanced casually at Annie “—we can take over completely.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary. I just got a scratch on the arm,” Dane said. “Besides, I plan to see this thing through to the end.”
“Is that what you want, Ms. Harden?” Ellen Denby trapped Annie with her hard stare.
Momentarily taken off guard by the woman’s question, Annie fumbled for words. “Uh, ah, yes, that’s what I want—for Dane to remain as my bodyguard until we solve the case and put whoever killed Halley behind bars.”
“Dane told me that you were originally opposed to his taking this case. So you’ve changed your mind about him, huh?” Denby gave Dane the once-over. “He can be a real pain in the ass, sometimes, but I have to admit he does have a few redeeming qualities.”
Denby smiled then, a smirky grin that told Annie the woman knew there was something going on between Dane and her.
Annie had thought she wouldn’t like Ellen Denby, but she’d been wrong. Within two days they’d become friends. Ellen might be beautiful and sexy, with the kind of body most women would kill to have, but she was a tough, independent lady—and she had no personal interest in Dane, other than as a friend.
The week had been uneventful, with the removal of Dane’s sutures the highlight of the entire seven days. Chief Holman and Sheriff Brewer were no closer to finding the shooter than they’d been a week ago, but the chief had confirmed Dane’s suspicions that the car used in the drive-by shooting had been stolen off the parking lot at Hughes Chemicals and Plastics. Dane had surmised that Webber had panicked and done something stupid, something he now regretted.
“Tonight’s my night to cook,” Ellen called from the kitchen. “My speciality is beef Stroganoff. I’ve checked the pantry and refrigerator. All the ingredients are here. How does that sound?”
Murdock licked his lips in that silly, playful way that always made Annie laugh. The guy’s size and rugged appearance was enough to scare the devil, but underneath that intimidating facade, he was just another Southern good ole boy, but without the polish Dane possessed.
“Sounds fine to me,” Dane said.
“Would you like some help?” Annie asked.
“I’d love it,” Ellen replied.
Dane watched the two women through the open doorway to the kitchen. He wasn’t sure he liked the idea of these two becoming so buddy-buddy. He got the distinct impression that, whenever they were alone together, they were plotting his demise.
“Afraid Denby will give away some of your secrets?” Murdock asked teasingly, as if he’d read Dane’s thoughts.
Before Dane could answer, the phone rang. He reached over on the end table and lifted the receiver. “Harden residence.”
“Dane?”
The thunder of his heartbeat temporarily drowned out all other sounds. “Richard?”
“I understand you’ve been trying to get in touch with me,” Richard Hughes said. “I’m sorry Dickie didn’t give you my number. That son of mine is a puzzle to me sometimes. Gloria and I have been in Jamaica resting up before hitting the campaign trail.”
“How is Gloria?”
“Rested, relaxed and tanned.” Richard chuckled.
That chuckle reassured Dane as nothing else could. His former father-in-law didn’t sound like a guilty man worried about being caught. “Did Dickie tell you what I needed to talk to you about?”
“Well, I didn’t actually talk to Dickie,” Richard said. “I called Royce Layman earlier today and he’s the one who told me that someone had taken shots at you and Annie again and that you were anxious to talk to me.”
“Did Royce explain what’s going on?”
“Yes, and I’m shocked, Dane. Absolutely shocked. I can’t imagine
why anyone would think that poor Martin Edwards was murdered. His death was ruled a suicide. Gloria and I were in Europe at the time, but we flew back immediately for the funeral. And of course, I saw to it that Wilma and Rene were taken care of.”
This sounded like the Richard that he had known and respected for so many years. A sense of relief settled over Dane. “We have reason to believe that there’s some sort of proof that Edwards’s death wasn’t suicide and that somehow Rene Edwards got hold of that evidence and passed it along to her cousin, Halley Robinson.”
“So, you’re saying that you believe Halley Robinson was murdered because she was in possession of that evidence?”
“I hate to ask you this, but…” Dane hesitated, fighting an inner battle with himself. “Richard, if you know something—anything—I’ll understand. If you’re protecting Dickie—”
“You think Dickie killed Martin Edwards! That’s ridiculous. Dickie was just a boy when Martin died.”
“Are you saying that to your knowledge no one associated with the local Hughes plant was involved in Edwards’s murder or a coverup afterward.”
“Dane…son…you know me. You know the kind of man I am. Do you honestly think I’d allow you or Annie to be harmed if I knew anything that could end the threats on Annie’s life?”
“No. The Richard Hughes I’ve known since I had my first date with his daughter wouldn’t be capable of harming another person or putting someone’s life in danger.”
Richard’s sigh was audible. “You don’t know how much that means to me, my boy.” There was a long, silent pause, then he said, “Lorna wouldn’t want the two of us to ever be at odds. She loved us both as we loved her.”
Dane would have believed him. He’d have swallowed the lie, hook, line and sinker, if Richard hadn’t overplayed his hand. If only he hadn’t tried to use Dane’s love for Lorna as a bargaining tool. He knew Richard well enough to understand the desperation in his plea. Reminding Dane that Lorna wouldn’t have wanted the two of them to be at odds was the act of a man calling in a marker. He might as well have said he expected Dane to take his side in this matter, regardless of the truth.
“Yes, you’re right,” Dane said. “I’m glad you called and straightened me out.”
“No problem, son. I’m just relieved to know that you still have faith in my word as a gentleman.”
“Give Gloria my best.” Dane felt as if he’d been dropped into a vat of boiling oil, as if his skin was melting away, his muscles dissolving, leaving nothing but bare bones.
“We’ll see you at the Fourth of July picnic in Spring Park,” Richard said.
“Yes, see you then.”
Standing in the doorway, Annie watched Dane crash and burn before her very eyes. What had Richard Hughes said to him? she wondered. What had his former father-in-law done to create such a reaction in Dane? He realized that Richard Hughes is somehow involved, either by direct action or by protecting someone else, she thought. Dane’s hero has shown his true colors at last!
Just as Annie rushed toward Dane, the telephone rang again. They both stared at the phone as if it were some hideous monster growling ferociously, preparing to attack.
Murdock picked up the receiver. “Harden residence. Yeah. Uh-huh. How about that. Mmm-hmm. You don’t say. Isn’t that interesting. Thanks, Sam. I’ll tell them.”
When the brief conversation ended, Murdock hung up the receiver and glanced at Ellen, who had walked into the den and stopped directly beside Annie.
“Looks like our investigators hit pay dirt.” His gaze locked with Dane’s. “You know, don’t you, that Richard Hughes has to be involved in some way?”
“Yes.” The admission caused Dane a great deal of personal anguish. To be the man Annie needed—both professionally and personally—Dane was forced to face some hard truths. And the most painful truth was that he knew, without a doubt, that Richard was a liar and could no longer be trusted.
“Our people have been going over information about Hughes Chemicals and Plastics in Florence with a fine-tooth comb, everything and anything that might give us a clue.” Murdock rubbed his mouth and chin with his cupped palm, as if hesitating before dealing a lethal blow.
“Out with it!” Dane knew the hesitancy on Murdock’s part was for his sake.
“It seems Martin Edwards had a private secretary named Alice Renegar, who, though only thirty-seven at the time of Edwards’s death, retired a week after the funeral. She drew a monthly check for…” Murdock paused. “Ten thousand dollars, until the day she died, last month.”
“Ten thousand dollars a month!” Ellen whistled loudly.
“Blackmail money,” Dane said.
“She died last month?” Annie asked.
“Yep.” Murdock nodded his head. “She had cancer. And by the way, Hughes Chemicals and Plastics picked up the tab for her medical bills.”
“Rene Edwards went into hiding not long after Alice Renegar died, then right after Rene disappeared, Halley Robinson was murdered.” Ellen lifted her eyebrows as she widened her eyes in a speculative look. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’d say in this case, one plus one plus one definitely makes three. Three women, two dead and one missing.”
“Alice Renegar is the one who had the proof that Edwards’s death wasn’t a suicide,” Dane said. “She used that proof as blackmail and when she died, the evidence was sent to Edwards’s daughter.” He turned to Murdock. “Call Sam back and tell him to find out if Alice Renegar had a lawyer.”
“He’s one step ahead of us,” Murdock said. “The lawyer’s name is Herrald Gravett, in Nashville. Sam’s flying over tomorrow to speak to him personally.”
By the Fourth of July, Ellen Denby had been gone for several days, having returned to Atlanta to relieve Sam of the managerial duties at the Dundee agency. Murdock was staying on until tomorrow, after the annual picnic in Tuscumbia’s Spring Park, where it was a custom of long standing for the state’s political candidates to speak.
Since Richard had called Dane from Birmingham, another missing piece of the puzzle had fallen into place. Herrald Gravett, once informed of the complexity of the situation and the legal consequences to himself in aiding a blackmailer, had confirmed that he had held a package and a letter in safekeeping for Alice Renegar. And per her instructions, he had mailed that package to Wilma Edwards upon Ms. Renegar’s death.
“I’m going to speak to Richard Hughes today!” Annie’s feisty pace matched her aggravation as she marched from the parking area into the heart of the park. “He’s been back in town two days now and he’s been deliberately avoiding our phone calls. We’ve given him enough time to come clean.” She glanced sadly at Dane. “I’m sorry it’s turned out like this, but—”
“I’ve never been so wrong about a person,” Dane said. “I trusted Richard. I… Whoever he’s protecting, I hope it’s worth it to him to have lost his integrity.”
“And lose the upcoming election, too,” Annie said. “Even if he’s only helped cover up the truth, he’s still guilty.”
Dane wondered just how long Richard thought he could continue with the charade, the pretense that he didn’t know anything about Martin Edwards’s death, other than that the coroner had ruled it a suicide. If Richard wasn’t hiding something, then he would have taken Dane’s calls once he and Gloria had returned to Florence.
But the Hughes’s housekeeper as well as Richard’s personal secretary had undoubtedly been ordered to take no phone calls from Dane or Annie. Did Richard actually think that because he was Lorna’s father, Dane would protect him, no matter what?
If Richard didn’t give them some satisfactory answers today, Dane knew he couldn’t continue putting off the inevitable. They would have to share everything they knew with the police, regardless of what happened to Lorna’s brother or her father. Or to Annie’s uncle Royce.
“You know, this little town reminds me of where I grew up in Mississippi,” Murdock said as he took his position at Annie’s left. “We had a park somethi
ng like this.”
Dane kept in step on Annie’s right. He was glad Murdock was free to stay on another day, thus giving Annie the added protection of a second bodyguard. Sam Dundee had immediately approved Dane’s request for a second agent to stay on. He suspected that Ellen Denby had told Sam that Dane’s interest in keeping Annie safe had become personal.
“Between Jason Webber and Dickie running interference, we’re going to have a difficult time getting to Richard, without making a scene,” Dane said.
Annie halted suddenly, tilted her head to one side and, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand, smiled up at Dane. “I’ve been known to make scenes. I’ve been making scenes since I was a child. Just ask my mother.” Annie waved toward the picnic table where Jennifer Harden was seated with Vera and Royce Layman.
“You’re my kind of gal, Annie,” Murdock said, his broad grin somewhat softening the hardness of his rugged face.
Dane cast Murdock a deadly look. “She’s enough of a target as it is. Coming here today and confronting Richard publicly just puts her more at risk.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were worried about Richard Hughes’s reputation.” Annie defiantly stuck out her chin. “Oh, look, there’s Richard and Gloria taking their seats on the podium. Why don’t we go over and say hello?”
“Annie!” Dane had two choices—either grab her and hog-tie her or follow her into the fray.
Choosing the latter, Dane stayed at her side, as did Murdock, while she stormed forward toward the speaker’s podium. Jason Webber headed her off before she reached the steps.
“Good afternoon, Ms. Harden,” Webber said. “May I help you?”
“You can tell Richard that I want to speak to him.” She angled her head to one side to glance past Webber and stare straight at Gloria Hughes. Annie waved at the gubernatorial candidate’s wife, who smiled warmly and waved back at Annie.
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