So Dark the Night

by Margaret Daley

  “Yes and no. All you have to do is believe in God and that His only Son died so that we could be forgiven. In Corinthians it says, ‘God made Him who had no sin to be sin for us, so that in Him we might become the righteousness of God.’ It doesn’t get any better than that.”

  On overload, Emma drew her hands down her face. The emotional tangle of her feelings pushed her to her feet. She needed time to process all that had happened to her and to nurture this newfound faith budding to life within. “Thank you, Colin. This gives me a lot to think about.”

  Listening to the weak thread of her voice, he looked up into her glistening eyes and desperately wanted to take her into his arms and make everything crystal clear to her. But he saw her struggling to make sense of what had transpired over the past few weeks. Holding her would only complicate things. He had done what he could. Now the rest was in the hands of the Lord and Emma.

  “Emma, the hard part is turning yourself totally over to the Lord, letting go of what you perceive as control over your life. Some people find it difficult to give themselves into God’s hands.”

  “Isn’t control an illusion? Do people really control their lives?” She laughed, but the sound held no humor. “I thought I did until Derek’s death and everything that happened after that. I was kidding myself.”

  “We have free will. We have choices.”

  “Like my brother and how he lived his life?” Emma walked a few feet away, then swung around to face him. “I know he didn’t make good choices. He made a lot of people very angry with him—enough that at least one wanted him dead. I can’t ignore the information I’ve been discovering this past week concerning Derek. I love him, but he was…” Her voice trailed off into the silence.

  “He was flawed. We all are.”

  “It seems to run deep in my family. My father loves to buy companies in trouble and dismantle them, not caring whose lives he’s ruining. He passed that on to his son, who apparently did an excellent job, too. My mother, for a good part of her life, was America’s most glamorous movie star. Only lately as she has gotten older have the roles she’s taken changed, but if she could have back her youth, she would relive her life exactly the same way. She loved the idea of men everywhere drooling after her. Not your quaint, suburban family.”

  “I’m not sure there’s such a thing.” He rose and came to her, taking her hands and yanking her toward him. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you. We’re going to find out who’s behind your brother’s murder and your life will return to normal.” He leaned toward her to feather his lips across hers.

  As they kissed, her cell phone rang. After the night before, she’d decided to carry her cell phone on her. Reluctantly he pulled back while she retrieved it from her pocket and flipped it open.

  “Adam! You’re certainly burning the midnight oil.” Emma grew tense as she listened to her accountant.

  From the scowl that wiped the pleasant smile from Emma’s face, Colin could tell the news wasn’t good.

  When she ended the call and put her phone back in her pocket, she said, “This is worse than I thought.”

  ELEVEN

  Colin drove into the space in the underground parking garage and turned off his engine. Then he twisted around to face Emma. “After we have lunch with your dad, we’ll pay your brother’s partner a little visit and get some answers to the irregularities in the books.”

  “Irregularities? Adam thinks it’s a smuggling scheme. If that’s true, organized crime could be involved.”

  “Emma, he just said that was one possibility.”

  “The most likely one. What if Derek knew? What if my brother was a part of something crooked?” The very thought made Emma doubt her ability to read people at all. She’d always considered her older brother a good guy. Finding out otherwise devastated her.

  “Then you’ll deal with it. It’s times like this when you can turn to the Lord for guidance. Emma, it’s possible Derek knew nothing.”

  “Which means Marcus definitely had a good motive to have him killed if Derek found out and wanted to put a stop to it.”

  “That would move him to the top of our list, and we can let J.T. know about it. I’d like to see Marcus’s reaction to you having your eyesight back. Whoever is behind the murder thinks you might be a threat.”

  “Then I think we should also pay Alicia a visit while we’re in Chicago. She and her uncle are suspects, too.”

  “Then we will, after we see Marcus. This should be an interesting afternoon.”

  Colin opened his door and climbed out of the SUV while Emma did the same. On the elevator ride to the top floor where the executive dining room was for S&J Corporation, Emma drew in deep, calming breaths but the trembling in her hands quickly diffused throughout her body, and she clutched Colin’s arm for a few seconds while the doors swished open.

  A memory as a little girl with her nanny coming to see her father at work inundated her. He’d been in a meeting, too busy to see her, and she’d left that day disappointed. Not two weeks later, her mother had moved to California permanently with her. As the limousine had driven away with her and her mother for the airport, she’d looked back at the house, watching Derek alone in the driveway, waving goodbye. Her father had been nowhere around, as he had been for so much of her life.

  Advancing toward the hallway that led to the dining room, Emma smiled at the receptionist she’d never seen before, then strode past her. Emma ignored the woman trying to stop her and entered the spacious room with eight tables set with white linens, bone china and crystal. The silver gleamed in the noonday sun that streamed in through the large floor-to-ceiling windows that afforded a million-dollar view of Lake Michigan and Chicago.

  Emma came to a stop a few feet in. Her father stood by a window and turned as the door opened behind Emma. He smiled.

  “Sir, I’m sorry about—” the young receptionist said.

  William St. James waved his hand. “That’s okay, Gloria. This is my daughter.”

  Pride wove its way through his words. The warmth in her father’s expression rested on Emma, causing hope to plant itself deep in her heart. Did he truly care? Then she remembered the years he had been absent from her life and decided she was dreaming to think that.

  The sound of the door closing shut the rest of the world out. The only people in the room were her, Colin slightly to the left of her and her father ten feet in front. Silence ruled for a long, uncomfortable moment while Emma resisted the urge to squirm. Her father was the master of the intimidating look, and she was determined not to let it get to her.

  “When were you going to tell me you got your sight back?” Her father’s bushy eyebrows beetled together.

  “I figured you already knew. You’re so resourceful, there’s little you don’t know.” She lifted her chin a notch. “It happened when those men tried to kill me.”

  The frown on his face eased but only slightly as he gestured toward a table near him. “Sit. Charles will take your drink order.” He nodded toward a small man who had entered the dining room from the kitchen.

  Colin held out the chair for her, then scooted it toward the table before taking his seat next to hers. He gave her a reassuring smile, which bolstered her confidence. She’d need it in dealing with her father. After giving Charles their order, Emma opened her napkin and smoothed it in her lap while trying to decide what to say next.

  Her father broke the silence with, “You could have been killed the other night, Emma.”

  For a brief moment she thought she’d heard a wobble in her father’s voice, but she had to be mistaken. That would mean he cared what happened to her. Her whole life, all she’d ever wanted from him was an indication he loved her. “I wasn’t,” she finally said, studying the neutral expression on his face. He’d always been so good at concealing his emotions, to the point she didn’t know what her father felt.

  “I want—” William St. James paused while Charles placed their iced teas on the table, then waited until the m
an left again before continuing. “I want you to come stay with me until this whole affair is settled. Next time you might not be so lucky.”

  The strength in her father’s voice faded until she barely heard the last word. When her eyes drilled into his, he averted his glance toward the door into the kitchen. “Dad?” A wealth of questions lay in that one word.

  After coughing several times, William called out, “Charles, we’ll order lunch now.” Then to them he said, “The prime rib is wonderful,” as though this was an everyday occurrence and the atmosphere didn’t pulsate with tension.

  Again Charles came out and took down what they wanted to eat, then disappeared into the kitchen. Once more, silence electrified the air as if a storm brewed. Emma contemplated the dark look in her father’s eyes. Did he care? she wondered and again dismissed that notion as not possible.

  “I can secure my estate tighter than an oil drum. Will you come to Chicago, Emma?” Her father took a sip of his drink, watching her over the rim of his glass.

  His estate, the one she’d left over twenty years ago. The place where her last image was of Derek alone on the driveway, the only one to say goodbye. She wouldn’t, couldn’t go back there. She looked toward Colin, gathering the strength she needed to face her father. “No. I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  She didn’t know how to explain all the feelings tangled up inside her—the confusion, the sadness, the uncertainty in her life, the budding love she felt toward Colin, the need to commit herself to the Lord, something her father would never understand. He would never turn control of his life over to another. “I’m safe where I am,” was all she could say, which was enough by the thunderous expression that descended on her father’s face.

  “Safe? You were hunted down and almost killed there! I don’t call that safe. What’s changed? You have bodyguards now?”

  “No. We’re close to discovering who was behind Derek’s murder. The two men who shot him are in jail. I would say the situation is vastly improved.”

  “Nothing has changed! The man responsible is still out there. He sent those goons to kill you!” Her father bent forward, his fists resting on the table.

  “Why? I can’t identify him, only the two men. That’s why they came after me.”

  “Maybe.”

  Her father’s doubt manifested itself in her, and she began to wonder about the attempt on her life. Was there more to it? Did she know something she wasn’t remembering? Were they close to discovering the person behind her brother’s murder?

  “Dad, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I’m staying in Crystal Springs for the time being.” She put a forcefulness behind her words, hoping her father would let the subject drop.

  As though everything was fine, he straightened his silverware next to his plate as Charles came into the room with their lunch. “Then you won’t mind me having my own private detectives looking into Derek’s murder.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t already,” Emma said as the waiter placed her prime rib with vegetables and scalloped potatoes in front of her. Although the aromas teased her senses with thoughts of the mouthwatering food, the idea of eating clenched her stomach.

  Her father waited until Charles left before saying, “Actually, I have.”

  Colin took a sip from his iced tea. “Have they found out anything?”

  “Have you?”

  Colin glanced at Emma, and she nodded. They needed all the assistance they could get, and if pooling resources helped, then she was all for it.

  “We have a list of people we’re checking into.” Colin cut into his prime rib. “There’s Marcus Peterson.”

  “I never did want Derek to partner with him. I don’t like the man’s methods.”

  She nearly choked on her meat. “His methods?”

  Her father’s sharp eyes settled on her. “I told Derek a few weeks ago that his partner is living above his means and that he has an expensive gambling habit. Derek wasn’t aware of that.”

  “Do you think your son did some investigating and discovered something was going on?”

  “Knowing Derek, yes.” Shifting his attention back to Colin, William scowled. “Is he your prime suspect?”

  “Emma found out last night from her accountant that the books don’t add up. Something’s wrong with the business. We think he’s funneling stolen goods through it. We’re going to the office when we leave here to see what Marcus has to say for himself.”

  “Do you think that’s wise?”

  “If he had Derek killed, we’re putting him on notice. The irregularities in the company books will be investigated no matter what. Having something happen to Emma won’t change that. That will be made clear from the beginning. Besides, there’ll be a lot of people around in the middle of the afternoon.”

  The barely leashed control in Colin’s voice brought back memories of how well he had taken care of the two men several nights ago, reinforcing in her mind that he was a man of contradictions—gentle and tough, a man of God and a warrior.

  “I hope so, for my daughter’s sake.”

  Emma heard again the concern in her father’s words. She eyed him and for a brief moment thought she saw worry in his expression before his usual mask fell into place.

  “Sir, I’ll do everything in my power to make sure nothing happens to Emma. You have my word.”

  Colin’s steady regard, coupled with the fierceness in his tone, underscored his intent to keep her safe. Knowing that warmed her insides, easing whatever trepidation she had in seeing Marcus, face-to-face.

  Surprisingly her father broke visual contact with Colin, saying, “Do you suspect anyone else?”

  “There’s always Jerry Lunsford and Alexander Sims. For that matter, anyone else Derek bankrupted in the past few years. You would know better than us who that might be. After all, he worked for you.” Emma’s grip tightened on her fork as she brought it to her mouth.

  The hard line of her father’s jaw clenched and his eyes narrowed. “I’m not going to argue with you over my business practices. They’re all legal.”

  “Legal doesn’t always mean right.”

  “I have provided jobs for thousands.”

  “And you have put thousands out of work by shutting down companies and plants. Any of those people could be holding a grudge against Derek. Our list might not even include the man behind my brother’s murder.”

  Her father grasped the edge of the table, anger carved into his face. “If they aren’t profitable, then they shouldn’t be in business.”

  “Ah, yes. The strongest survive.” She speared some glazed carrots and popped them into her mouth, not because she was hungry but because she needed to do something.

  “Yes. That’s business.”

  Emma chewed her vegetables, but she couldn’t taste their sweetness. With a parched throat, she took a large swallow of her tea. She ignored her father’s glare and asked, “Is there anyone else beside Alexander Sims and Jerry Lunsford that Derek was instrumental in ruining?”

  Her father shot to his feet, tossing his napkin onto the table. “Your brother didn’t ruin those men. They did it all by themselves. We were there to pick up the pieces and salvage what we could of their companies.”

  Emma stood, facing her father across the small table for four. “Are there any more?”

  “I don’t know. I suppose there might be.” His voice rose with each word, a defensiveness she’d never heard in it.

  “Then I suggest you find out. What Derek did for you could have been the reason he was killed.”

  The second she said what she had been thinking for over a week, she regretted the outburst. The look of pain that flashed into her father’s eyes tore at her defenses. For a few seconds she saw the hurt she had caused and wished she hadn’t said anything even though it might be the truth.

  Her father pivoted away from the table and strode to the bank of windows. The rigid set of his body contradicted the slight trembling she glimpsed in his hands, w
hich he immediately stuffed into the pockets of his black suit.

  Colin came up to her side and whispered, “I think I need to leave you two alone for a few minutes. Talk to him, Emma. He needs it and so do you.”

  He started toward the door. Emma grabbed for him, not wanting to be alone with her father. Her fingers brushed across his back, then Colin was out of her reach and striding toward the exit.

  The door clicking shut made her flinch as though she had been hit. She turned back to her father, at a loss for words. After her parents’ divorce, he hadn’t been in her life much. Even the occasional visit with him had been strained, as if all they had in common was the same last name—and their love for Derek. That thought made Emma take a step toward her father. Then another.

  “Dad? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  His shoulders sagged as though he carried an unseen burden on them. “But you meant every word.”

  She wanted to deny it, but she wouldn’t lie. Instead, she came closer until she stood next to him at the window and stared at the city below with the glittering lake in the background. “I’ve discovered Derek made a few enemies. It was hard for me to reconcile the Derek I’m hearing about with the Derek I knew and loved as my brother.”

  “I made him that way. Isn’t that what you really want to say? He was becoming like me?”

  “Yes.” The dryness in her mouth prevented her from saying any more than that.

  “I know this past year or so Derek and I had our misunderstandings, but we did respect and care for each other. I knew almost from the beginning my son didn’t really have what it took to be ruthless and cutthroat in the business world. He stuck it out for as long as he could because he hadn’t wanted to disappoint me.”

  She and her brother had wanted the same thing and neither one had succeeded. “Why does the bottom line always have to be about money?”