by Chris Taylor
Jacob looked at her in surprise. “Do you eat here often?”
Hannah smiled. “As often as I can, although most of the time I do takeout. I love Thai food. Sam and I have spent many a night solving the problems of the world over May-Ling’s green coconut curry chicken.”
He frowned. “Sam?”
“Yes. Samantha Wolfe. My best friend. You met her at the ball. She married Rohan Coleridge a few months ago. He’s a detective, like your brother.”
Jacob nodded, filled with relief that she hadn’t been referring to a man. The memory of Rohan’s wife came back to him. “That’s right. She wasn’t feeling so well that night. You went with her to the bathroom.”
“Morning sickness,” Hannah explained. “Or in Sam’s case, morning, noon and night sickness.”
Jacob nodded sympathetically. “That’s tough.”
Hannah smiled. “Yes.”
“It sure smells good in here,” Toby commented, looking around at the quaint Thai-inspired décor. I can’t remember the last time I ate restaurant food.”
Hannah turned to him and smiled, a teasing look in her eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re complaining that my cooking isn’t restaurant quality?”
Toby grinned back at her and Jacob couldn’t help but notice the obvious closeness between them. It was like when they’d been young. The two had always had a special friendship. Now, even after all the years apart, it had taken less than a week for their friendly camaraderie to re-establish itself. Jacob felt a pang and once again, realized he was jealous. The recurring feeling annoyed him.
His brother had been living on the streets for who knew how long. It was obvious he’d been doing it tough. Although the physical reminders of the life he’d been living had been removed with hot water, soap and clean clothes, Jacob couldn’t help but wonder about the emotional reasons behind the way Toby had been living his life. It scared him to think it might have had everything to do with him and what had happened on that night in November.
“It’s good to see you looking so well, Tobes,” he said quietly and meant it.
Toby nodded and flushed. “Hannah’s been taking really good care of me, Jake. And I’m really loving my job.”
Jacob nodded, his heart filling with contentment. He looked at Hannah. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for my little brother,” he told her.
She frowned. “Little brother?” A moment later, comprehension flooded her face. “Oh, yeah. Little brother. I remember that dig.”
Toby rolled his eyes, but amusement glinted in their depths. “He’s only older than me by three minutes. Three minutes shouldn’t count.”
“Of course it does,” Jacob protested good-naturedly. A lot can happen in three minutes.”
Hannah joined in the fun. “You’re right. In three minutes I can boil water and make a bowlful of noodles. Add a few herbs and spices and, hey presto! You have a meal!”
“And here I thought you only served restaurant-quality food at home!” Jacob teased.
She smiled at him, taking the jibe in the spirit intended. “You ought to come over one night and decide for yourself.”
* * *
Hannah stared at Jacob and snapped her jaw shut, unable to believe what she’d just said. What the hell was she doing, issuing an invitation like that? It was one thing to accept a dinner invitation to a restaurant in the city, surrounded by other people. It was another thing to invite him into her home, with the implicit intimacy that suggested—even with his brother in attendance.
She’d been lulled into a false sense of contentment, trading comfortable conversation across the table. The drinks had arrived and she’d already taken several sips from her beer. She was secretly impressed that he remembered her choice of beverage from the ball—not all women enjoyed beer. The yeasty taste of it had slid down her throat all too easily, relaxing her, making her vulnerable.
She’d arrived at the restaurant and was lucky enough to secure a parking spot not too far away, all the while, second-guessing her decision to come to dinner. She’d been more than a little nervous about seeing him again. Toby’s chatter on the way had helped distract her for a while, but the moment she spied Jacob smiling at her from across the room, her nerves had doubled in intensity.
But the comfortable mood at the table and sense of relaxed familiarity that came back to her in the company of the two attractive men had served to ease her tension and she’d been enjoying the evening. So much so that without thinking it through, she’d invited him home to dinner. Now, all she could do was hope he turned her down.
“You’re probably too busy,” she started in an effort to dissuade him. Jacob opened his mouth, but his twin beat him to it.
“What a great idea!” Toby exclaimed. “It’s our birthday next week! We could celebrate it together, with Hannah. It would be just like old times, back when we were kids.” He turned to his brother, his eyes pleading. “Please say yes, Jake. Talk to your boss. Change your roster. It’s been so long since we were together on our birthday.” His voice lowered. “It would mean so much to me if you could make it.”
The tension that had gripped Hannah the instant she issued the invitation dissipated. The longing in Toby’s eyes tugged at her heart. How could she try and dissuade his brother from attending? Toby needed this. He needed to reconnect with his twin. And what better way to do it than at their joint birthday? Surely, she could do it for Toby’s sake?
Jacob’s gaze burned into hers. “Are you sure? I mean… Just because you’re friends with my brother, doesn’t mean I expect anything from you. I know how you feel about me. I wouldn’t want to—”
“It’s all right,” she interrupted him. “I wouldn’t have said anything if I didn’t want you to come around. And after all, Toby’s staying with me. It would be easy to share a birthday dinner with the two of you. In fact, it sounds like fun.”
The more she thought about it, the more she realized that was true. She didn’t want to soften her heart toward Jacob, but she had a sneaking suspicion it was happening without her say-so. A wave of guilt went through her. Was she being disloyal to Luke? He’d died because Jacob had climbed drunk behind the wheel. There was no arguing against the facts.
A surge of sadness went through her. Nothing would bring her boyfriend back, no matter how long she stayed mad at Jacob. Even so, the thought of letting her anger go and accepting what had happened made her feel panicky. For more than a decade, her anger had sustained her, had been the thing that got her through the grief and loss. Was it even possible to give that up?
“All right. I accept,” Jacob said.
His words jolted her from her increasingly frantic thoughts. He’d accepted. He was coming over for dinner. Oh, God. What was she going to do?
The arrival of the waitress, brandishing a pen and notepad, brought her thoughts to a sudden halt.
“Are you ready to order?” the woman asked with a friendly smile.
Jacob nodded in Hannah’s direction. “Please, you go first.”
Once again, his good manners warmed her. She offered him a smile of acknowledgement and then turned to the waitress.
“Yes, um… I’ll have the mussaman beef curry and some special fried rice, please.” She turned to Toby. “What are you having, Toby?”
After taking their orders, the waitress collected their menus. Reassuring them the food wouldn’t be long, she turned away and headed back toward the kitchen.
“I saw an article in the paper yesterday about one of your coworkers,” Jacob said, glancing across at her as he took a sip from his beer. “It sounds like he met a sad end. Did you know him?”
Hannah grimaced and nodded. “Yes, I did. Christopher Lowrey worked as my assistant for more than a year. He was a good worker. He’d had some tough knocks in life, but he was a survivor. I liked him. I was very saddened to hear he’d died so tragically. The police said the truck driver didn’t even realize he’d hit him.”
Jacob frowned. “What are you talking about
? The story didn’t say anything about a truck. This guy was found dead in a stairwell and I’m sure his name was Edward something. It’s my middle name; that’s why it stuck with me.”
Coldness gripped Hannah’s insides. She stared at Jacob in shock, trying to make sense of his words. Edward? Dead? How could that be? A sense of urgency tinged with panic surged through her and she leaned forward.
“When did this happen?”
“The paper was more than a week old. I guess it happened sometime around then.”
Hannah’s heart thumped. “What else did the article say?”
Jacob shrugged. “Not much. It was brief on detail. Something about the fact he’d been found in the stairwell of an inner city hostel with a broken neck. An autopsy revealed his blood alcohol level was high. The police have surmised he stumbled and fell down the stairs and met an unfortunate end. It only caught my attention because it mentioned the Max Grace Funeral Home. I’d never heard of the place until Tobes started working there. A week earlier and the story would have escaped my notice.”
Thoughts swirled through Hannah’s mind. Christopher had met with an accident a little over a month ago. Now a second work colleague had died. What was going on? Was it merely a coincidence? She couldn’t help the shiver of premonition that trickled down her spine.
She wondered if Max knew about Edward’s death, and if so, why he hadn’t mentioned it? Thinking about how Edward had died, she was flooded with sadness. Nobody deserved to die like that, alone and in pain. She prayed he’d died quickly.
* * *
Bobby Grace picked nervously at a scab on his forearm. Old scars and new criss-crossed his hands and arms, the permanent evidence of a violent life. He thought he’d put it all behind him the day they released him from jail, but somehow, his past kept coming back to haunt him, no matter how hard he tried.
Not that he’d tried too hard. He wanted to be strong, but the truth was, he was weak. The lure of sweet oblivion at the end of a needle was too strong. It blurred the nightmares of his years in jail like nothing else could. His uncle just didn’t understand.
Max Grace had lived an easy life. He’d never known what it was like not to be wanted, not to fit in. Bobby’s father had hung around just long enough to get his mother pregnant and his mother… Well, he guessed she’d done the best she could in the circumstances… Too bad it wasn’t enough.
Meanwhile, Uncle Max had gotten rich off the business of dying and Bobby and his mom were left to struggle on the streets. It killed Bobby to see his uncle extending charity to men down on their luck. His uncle hadn’t bothered to extend the same kind of charity to his sister and her bastard son when it might have mattered the most.
Bobby was sure the man expected him to be grateful. Like he should thank him or something, for throwing him a tidbit of generosity—like a grateful dog would slobber over its master for tossing it a bone. It made him sick. Still, the old man couldn’t live forever and Bobby was his only family.
Surely he’d have the decency to leave the business to his nephew? Bobby wasn’t certain he could hang around long enough to find out. He needed money and he needed it fast. Rat didn’t go easy on anyone who was in his debt. The last poor bastard who’d failed to come up with cash had been found floating in the Harbour. Bobby sure as hell didn’t plan to end up like that.
Five male figures appeared in the darkness, all wearing dark colored hoodies that concealed most of their features, but Bobby knew who they were. He tensed. Doing business with dealers always made him nervous. There was something wild and animal-like about them and he could never predict their mood. Right now, he didn’t have the money he owed them and the knowledge made his gut go weak.
“Where is it?” Rat demanded as soon as he was close enough.
Bobby dug into his pocket and handed over a wad of cash. “Here.” He thrust it into Rat’s filthy hand and waited, shifting nervously from foot to foot.
Rat made a show of counting it. “You’re three hundred short,” he snarled.
“Yeah, I’m sorry. I-I’ll have it next time. I promise.”
The glint of a knife blade caught Bobby’s eye. He swallowed. He outweighed Rat by at least fifty pounds, but the guy hadn’t come alone. Flanked by four hefty bodyguards, Bobby didn’t stand a chance. Besides, he was tired of fighting. All he wanted was the drugs. The hit of sweet oblivion. Nothing else came close.
“You’d better,” Rat growled, his sharp, pointed teeth glimmering in the faint light. “Next time, I won’t be so understanding.” Rat stared meaningfully at his bodyguards, his message clear as they narrowed their eyes at Bobby.
Bobby managed a jerky nod before stumbling away from them. He hurried down the alleyway, finally breathing a sigh of relief when he turned the corner and disappeared from their sights.
CHAPTER NINE
Hannah heard the door to Max’s office open. Setting aside the jar of formaldehyde, she glanced across at Toby.
“Do you mind finishing this off? I just heard Max come in. I need to speak with him.”
Toby grinned. “Sure.” Taking the syringe from her, he picked up the jar.
“I won’t be long,” she assured him and peeled off her latex gloves.
“No problem. I know what to do.”
She smiled softly. “Yes, you do. You’re a quick learner, Toby. We’re lucky to have you.”
He blushed, but happiness shone in his innocent blue eyes. Her heart clenched. He looked so much like his brother.
“I’ll be back soon. Give me a yell if you need any help.”
“I will.”
Hannah made her way across the hall to Max’s office and knocked gently on the closed door.
“Come in.”
Turning the knob, she greeted him with a trembling smile. Max glanced up briefly and greeted her.
“Hannah! Good morning! I hope you had a good weekend. What can I do for you?” he asked and then returned his gaze to the papers in his hand.
Now that the moment was upon her, she was suddenly at a loss for words. She opened her mouth, but to her horror, tears welled up in her eyes.
Max looked up again and frowned. “Hannah? Are you all right?”
“I… I discovered on Friday night that Edward was found dead more than a week ago. Did you… Did you know?”
Max remained silent and Hannah’s apprehension increased. “Max…?”
He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry, Hannah. I guess I should have told you, but coming so soon after Christopher’s death, I didn’t want to upset you.”
She shook her head in disbelief. “When did you find out?”
Max averted his gaze. “The police came to me the morning after he was found. Apparently he had a payslip in his pocket. They tracked him back here.”
Her jaw gaped open. “You’ve known all this time and didn’t tell me? I came to you the first morning he didn’t show for work. You knew how concerned I was. I asked you if you knew where he’d gone. You told me you didn’t know anything. You told me he’d probably decided to move on. Why did you lie?”
A flush spread up Max’s neck and moved across his rounded face. With his white hair haloing his head, he looked like a guilty angel. When he looked up at her, his eyes pleaded with her to understand.
“I’m sorry, Hannah. I truly am. I didn’t know back then. When the police told me… I wanted to spare you the pain. Edward hadn’t been here as long as Christopher, but the two of you were friends. The whole tragic business was just so sad. I… I couldn’t tell you.”
Hannah bit her lip and nodded. She understood. Max had been doing what he always did—thinking of others and acting accordingly. She could hardly blame him for wanting to spare her. He thought he’d been treating her kindly by keeping her in the dark.
“It’s all right, Max,” she said quietly. “You did what you thought was best. I guess it doesn’t matter, now. It’s not going to bring Edward back, or change the way he died. Did the police find any family? Is that why he wasn’t b
rought back here?”
Max bowed his head. When he looked up at her again, his expression was troubled. “I’m… I’m not sure. I guess so. I… I hate to change the subject, but something else has kept me sleepless all weekend.”
Hannah frowned. “What is it, Max?”
Max’s thin shoulders slumped on another heavy sigh. “It’s about the life insurance thing. After you spoke to me about it last week, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. It seemed like such an odd thing for Toby’s doctor to say. I phoned the medical center and spoke to the doctor who carried out the physical exam.” His tone grew heavier.
“He told me my nephew had called him shortly after I’d arranged the appointment and explained the exam was for the purposes of an application for life insurance. There are certain other tests that are carried out when an examination is done for that purpose,” Max explained.
“Yes, I understand,” Hannah said. “What I don’t understand is why Bobby would request it. It doesn’t make sense. Why would Toby need life insurance?”
Max compressed his lips and his expression turned grim. “It might have something to do with this.”
He pushed some papers toward her. She glanced down at them. General & Life Insurance Company was written in bold black type across the top of the page. Skimming through the small print, she came to the details of the insured and her eyes widened. The policy insured the life of Edward John Sutton, forty-three, for the sum of five hundred thousand dollars. The policy was owned by Robert Grace.
In disbelief, she looked up at Max. “Bobby took out life insurance on Edward?”
Max’s lips tightened and his expression grew somber. “Yes.”
“Where did you find this?” she asked.
“After I spoke to the doctor, I went through Bobby’s desk. I wasn’t exactly sure what I was looking for, but I had an awful feeling. I’ve owned this business for close to fifty years. I’ve had a lot of staff come through my doors. Before Bobby got here, none of them left in a box. And now, two former employees have met unexpected deaths in a short space of time.”