Secrets Among the Cedars (Intertwined Book 2)

by Johnson, Sherri Wilson

  "You're saying I know where the weapon is?" Phil stiffened his neck and cracked his knuckles.

  "No, sorry." She erased her words with her hands. "I mean that you're connected to the family, so maybe they hid the weapon on one of the family properties you now own."

  Phil puckered his lips and raised his eyebrows. "You may have a point."

  "How many properties do you have?"

  "Five. Including my own home."

  "Do any of them have a hideaway? A cellar? A fort? Are any of them on the canal where there could be crab traps or some other connection to the water?"

  "They're all on the canal or the bayou including the one you're in over by the airstrip."

  Kathryn nodded and straightened in her seat. "We need to check each place off the list until we eliminate them or find that gun. Time is running out. I've got to go back home, and the trial is coming up."

  "Okay, we'll start first thing in the morning. I told Drew I'd call Uncle Louie, although I doubt they'll let him talk on the phone. He suggested that I convince you to forget about the case. I'm going to tell him I found out you're off the case. Maybe they'll drop their quest and go home."

  "They won't go anywhere until they secure the weapon."

  "Which means we're bound to have a run in with them at some point."

  "I was afraid you were going to say that."

  #

  They returned to the house, and Kathryn accepted Sadie's greeting by kneeling down to ruffle her ears then poured a glass of water. She drank a little and cleared her throat. Her meal must have been saltier than she'd realized while eating it.

  Phil unlocked the storage closet beside the laundry room and pulled a gallon of paint, two poles, two rollers, a drop cloth, and a paint tray out into the hall. "You sure you don't mind helping me paint?"

  Kathryn cleared her throat again. She must have gotten a flake of pepper lodged in the back of her throat. "Not at all. As long as we can take a break and watch the sunset."

  "Definitely!"

  "Let me go change into something that I don't care if it gets paint on it. Because it will if I'm doing the painting." Kathryn smiled.

  Phil raised his right eyebrow, obviously puzzled by her throat tickle. "I didn't consider the fact that you might not have any casual clothes with you."

  "No, I do. I've got some ratty old T-shirts I like to lounge around in."

  "Okay, good."

  Kathryn coughed. "Excuse me. I don't know why I'm having a problem here."

  "Was the food too spicy?"

  "Maybe. I'm not sure." Kathryn grabbed her suitcase handle and wheeled it to the master bedroom at the end of the hall. It had a private balcony overlooking the bayou. She imagined the captivating view of the sunsets from it. She cleared her throat again. Why did it feel as if she'd swallowed a feather?

  Phil hollered from the kitchen, "You're trying to get out of painting, aren't you?"

  Kathryn laughed, but a cough interrupted. She changed clothes in the master bathroom, the giant Jacuzzi calling her name, and hung up the clothes that would wrinkle.

  By the time she returned to the living room, Phil had opened a can of light terra cotta paint and stirred it with a paint stirrer. "What do you think of—" He looked up into Kathryn's face. "Whoa! You'd better sit down." He abandoned the stirrer and dashed over to her side. "Are you allergic to seafood?"

  Kathryn cleared the tickle again and plopped on to the tan leather sofa. "I don't think so. Why?"

  "Your face is swollen. Did you not notice when you were in the bathroom?"

  "No. I didn't even look in the mirror." This must be a strange reaction to the shrimp because not looking in the mirror to check her appearance when in the presence of a man was out of character for her.

  Phil squatted beside her. "Do you feel okay?"

  Kathryn blew out a puff of air. "Not really. I kind of feel spacey."

  "I'm calling 9-1-1."

  "No. I don't want to go to—" Her tongue felt like it was the size of a t-bone steak wedged in her mouth.

  "You’re probably right anyway. The closest place is thirty minutes away. We don’t have time for that. I'll call Mrs. Barnes down the road. She's a retired nurse. Just sit tight."

  Kathryn swallowed hard and massaged the front of her neck. "Who's Mrs. Barnes?"

  "She's a neighbor a few doors down. Real sweet. She goes to the church." Phil searched his phone for her number, hit dial, and waited. He joined Kathryn on the sofa, and Sadie rested her chin on Kathryn's knee.

  Was she having an allergic reaction? She'd had shellfish before and had never experienced anything like this.

  "Mrs. Barnes, it's Phil. Hi, yes, I'm doing well, except I have a friend over here at the rental on Airport Road, and I think she's having a reaction to the seafood she ate earlier." Phil listened and took Kathryn's hand in his.

  Phil explained that Kathryn didn't want to call the paramedics or go to the hospital. She tried to cough, but her throat felt like someone had a hold of it. She swallowed again, and her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. "Phil?" She squeezed his hand, and pleaded with her eyes for him to get help fast.

  "Can you hurry over here?" Phil studied Kathryn's face. "Thank you." He ended the call. "She'll be here in two minutes. She's going to give you liquid antihistamine. If that doesn't work, we're calling an ambulance."

  "I'm sorry." Kathryn whispered.

  "About what? You didn't know this would happen. I don't care about anything but making you better."

  “Do you think someone poisoned me?” Kathryn squeezed his hand.

  "No. No one would’ve done that. Your eyes are swelling, Kathryn. I'm worried."

  Kathryn nodded. She leaned her head back on the sofa and shut her eyes.

  "Don't go to sleep on me now. I need you to focus on breathing."

  "Okay." Sadie jumped on to the couch and put her paws in Kathryn's lap. Kathryn stroked her head.

  A knock sounded at the door, and Phil jumped up and bolted to answer it. He opened the door and pointed to Kathryn, and with an elevated tone in his voice, he explained to Mrs. Barnes the latest on Kathryn's condition.

  She kneeled at Kathryn's feet. "Well, honey, you're a sight. Can you breathe?"

  Kathryn nodded.

  Phil took Sadie by the collar and pulled her off Kathryn's lap. Sadie whined. "Not now, Sadie. Kathryn needs help."

  Mrs. Barnes measured out a dose of antihistamine in the plastic cup that came with the bottle and offered it to Kathryn. "Here drink this."

  Kathryn sat up and took the cup. She sipped the cherry flavored thick and grainy liquid, forcing it down her throat.

  "Can you swallow?"

  "Yes, ma’am. I think so." Kathryn's eyes burned and her tongue itched. How could her tongue itch? What if—what if she died?

  "Drink it down now. We'll wait a few minutes and see if you need more. Let me check your pulse."

  While Mrs. Barnes checked her pulse, Phil paced from the front door to the back. He opened the door to the deck and went outside. He paced in front of the door and then returned. Had he come to care for her in these few days of knowing each other? If she died today, at least she'd have someone with her who showed concern for her well-being.

  "Your pulse is normal. Let me look in your mouth." Kathryn rolled her head back onto the sofa and opened her mouth. Mrs. Barnes held up a mini-flashlight and pointed the beam of light down Kathryn's throat. "Everything looks okay. There's some swelling, but your throat is open. Do you have an epi pen?"

  "No. I've never—" Kathryn swallowed and shook her head. "I've never had a reaction like this before."

  "Okay. Let's take one more tablespoon. It's probably going to knock you out, but it'll most likely take care of the reaction." She poured the liquid into the plastic cup and handed it to Kathryn.

  Kathryn groaned, and Phil came back to her side. "Drink it or you're going to have to go to the hospital by ambulance."

  She sighed. "Okay."

  "Phil, wil
l you be able to stay here with her? She shouldn't be left alone."

  "Absolutely."

  Kathryn shook her head. "I'll. Be. Okay." Her words came out like a slow drip from the faucet. The medicine was kicking in; her tongue wasn't stuck to the roof of her mouth anymore, and her throat felt looser.

  "You're a funny girl. I wouldn't leave you alone if a hurricane was pounding Cedar Key right now. I'll be here all night."

  Mrs. Barnes put the cap back on the antihistamine bottle and placed it on the coffee table. "I'll leave this here with you. She might need some more later. The swelling around her eyes should go down here in about thirty minutes or so. If not, give her one more tablespoon. She may need to see a doctor tomorrow though."

  "Thank you, Mrs. Barnes." Phil walked her to the door.

  "You call me if you need me."

  Kathryn closed her eyes while Phil whispered with Mrs. Barnes at the door. His voice lulled her into a tranquil state. Sadie jumped into her lap, and Kathryn draped her hand over her back. She didn't have the energy to stroke her. She'd rest here for a few minutes and then help Phil paint.

  #

  After an hour of watching for signs of emergency in Kathryn, Phil returned to his house to get his laptop, a change of clothes, and other items he'd need while standing guard for the night. He returned to the rental, making sure neither Drew nor Barney had followed him, and parked behind the shed around the back of the house, where he'd also moved Kathryn's car earlier.

  Drew called, but he ignored it. If he had to defend Uncle Louie, he would. And if Louie turned out to be guilty, so be it. His family couldn't hide the truth forever.

  But right now, Kathryn was his top priority, not worrying about his uncle or his two brute cousins and their insistence that he defend Louie. His focus was on getting their minds off Kathryn, to help her find the murder weapon, and to get her reinstated to the case.

  He walked Sadie one last time for the night, and she returned to Kathryn's side on the bed in the master bedroom, where he'd carried her after she'd fallen asleep on the sofa. Phil brushed Kathryn's hair out of her face. Her breathing was as steady as the sway of a dock on the water, and her face glowed from the light of the moon coming in through the window. The allergic reaction was unfortunate and had caused the poor thing to miss the sunset, but Phil didn't mind the opportunity to watch over her for a little while longer. She'd leave Cedar Key in a day or so, and he might not get another chance to spend this kind of time with her again.

  If Pops knew he'd befriended the prosecutor—former prosecutor—for his ex-brother-in-law, he'd charter a private flight to Cedar Key and give Phil a lashing or two with his tongue, if not with his fists. To Pops, there was nothing more important than protecting the family name, especially not a woman. If he found out that Kathryn had been friends with Maria, he'd pass judgment on her before hearing anything else about how kind and innocent she was. A friend of Maria's would be a traitor to the Tagliaferro family, in Pops' eyes.

  Phil sighed and opened the can of paint. He'd work a little in one of the bedrooms for a while and hopefully come up with a plan for finding the gun.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Kathryn pulled the covers up to her chest and yawned. The ocean-blue luxurious sheets felt like Egyptian cotton; they had to be 1,000-thread count. Blanketed by a blue, gray and silver feather-light spread boasting of interlocking geometric shapes, she protested leaving this haven with its vaulted ceilings and skylights. But the smell of bacon filtered into the room, and her stomach growled in response.

  Delight flooded her soul when her gaze landed on the painting above the dresser on the wall opposite the bed. The turquoise ocean waves crashing against the shore. The sea foam lingering behind as the waves rushed back to the depths of the ocean. The sea oats glimmering in the sunset. The lone gull soaring in the breeze. Clearly, this was not a painting of Cedar Key, but of somewhere in the Gulf. There was no mistaking its beaches and surf.

  The beach had always conjured up such relaxation in Kathryn. She’d solved problems while sitting on a sandy shore which might as well have been a therapist’s couch. From her spot near the crashing waves, she’d dreamt of days where rejection and pain had no place. Yes, the beach held all of her secrets and her heart close to its own. She could bottle up the sugar white sand and collect seashells galore, but she couldn't adequately capture the essence of this marvel of nature or the emotions that stirred within her every time she sat before it. The artist of this painting, however, had somehow done it, and Kathryn would forever be grateful to her for it.

  She yawned again and stretched then bolted upright in the bed. Where was she and what day was it? How had she gotten here into the bed? The TV resounded in the living area, so she wasn't alone. Alarm raced down her spine, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood to attention. Who was with her? Where was Sadie?

  She slipped out from underneath the covers and tiptoed down the hallway. She peeked around the corner into the kitchen. Phil stood in front of the stove, and Sadie sat at his feet. Kathryn smiled and scurried back to the bedroom.

  In the bathroom, she brushed her teeth then her hair and pulled it back into a messy bun. She washed last night's make-up off her face and studied her puffy eyes. Why did she look like a blowfish? Ah, that's right. She'd had an allergic reaction. Phil must have stayed all night with her. Warmth smoothed the apprehension away from her body.

  Kathryn turned too quickly leaving the bathroom and caught the door facing with her shoulder to keep from falling. The antihistamine had done a number on her, but it had obviously worked. She inched her way into the kitchen down the hallway, sliding her hand along the wall for support.

  And there he was. Standing in her kitchen—his kitchen—in slim-fitting charcoal gray shorts, a gray heather round-neck T-shirt, and black Chuck sneakers. Was it the leftover antihistamine in her system that made her feel light-headed or was it the sight of him? Oh, it was the sight of him, no doubt. She straightened her T-shirt, tucked a strand of hair behind her left ear, and shuffled into the kitchen.

  Phil’s eyes smiled. "Well, good morning, little Miss Sunshine. I thought I heard you fumbling around back there." He sidled up next to her with two giant steps and placed a kiss on her cheek. His citrusy cologne combined with the savory scent of the bacon swirled around her. "You look much better this morning than you did last night."

  She dismissed his compliment with a wave of her hand then brought it to her cheek on the spot he'd kissed. Both of her cheeks must have been as red as a rose judging by the heat searing through her flesh. "Oh, please. I look terrible, especially with no make-up."

  "There isn't an ounce of truth in that statement, counselor. You're a natural beauty."

  "Thanks." She cut her eyes at him. He had a knack for flattery.

  "Did I wake you with my clanking around in the kitchen?"

  "No, it was the smell of bacon that woke me. You sure do make big breakfasts."

  Phil returned to the stove and tapped the spatula on the frying pan. "It's not really breakfast anymore. It's already noon."

  Her eyes bulged, and she rubbed her temple. "Noon? I've been asleep since 9:00 p.m. last night?"

  He pointed at her with the spatula. "You guessed it. I checked on you all throughout the night, and you seemed to be okay, so I didn't wake you."

  "Thank you. Did you put me in the bed?"

  He squinted. "Yes. I hope you don't mind."

  "No, thanks." He'd carried her to the bed like some kind of hero from a romance novel. Wow!

  "How did you sleep?"

  "I don't know." She laughed, still fuzzyheaded. "I guess pretty well. I was confused like never before when I woke up a few minutes ago. I couldn't remember where I was. What did you do while I slept?"

  "I ran home to get some things I needed then I spent some quality time with Sadie. She's a great dog."

  "That she is." Kathryn patted her leg, and Sadie ran to her side.

  Phil removed the bacon from the pan, an
d placed it on a paper towel to drain. "Then I painted one of the bedrooms."

  "I thought I smelled fresh paint."

  He picked up a piece of paper off the counter. "And I made a list of my properties and all the possible places someone could hide a weapon."

  Kathryn slipped the paper from Phil’s grasp and examined it. "So you didn't waste any time?"

  "No way. We don't have any to waste."

  Kathryn slid on to the bar stool as Phil pulled the biscuits from the oven. Surely, they weren't homemade. They were two inches high with nooks and crannies just waiting for butter to puddle in them. Kathryn's stomach growled again.

  "Do you want your eggs scrambled or fried?"

  "Scrambled is fine. Just two."

  "How do you feel?"

  "Refreshed. I haven't slept that deeply in years." She studied the list of properties.

  "I guess that's one benefit of having an allergic reaction."

  "I suppose so."

  "And you've never had a reaction to seafood before last night?"

  "Nope, but I think my dad might be allergic. I'll have to ask him when we talk next. That was really scary."

  "Tell me about it."

  She turned her attention to him. "I'm thankful you were here with me. If you'd dropped me off and left, I don't know what would've happened."

  "We don't want to think about that. I was here for a reason."

  She folded her arms and leaned on the bar. Phil sprinkled salt and pepper on his edible masterpieces with care, in the same way he did everything else. In the four days she'd known him, she'd come to realize that he was an intentional kind of guy. He wouldn't be there with her now if he didn't care about her. What a crazy situation. How had she managed to attract the attention of a man who couldn't have been more taboo for her?

  "You know, you may be right. Since I've been here in Cedar Key, I've had an awful lot of protection." This had to be the work of something higher than her. Or someone. Maybe God? She shrugged. Thinking about God's providence was too big a subject for her right now. "I don't think that's a coincidence. Do you?"