Keeping Secrets

by Cathi Stoler

  “I’ll do what I have to do. It’s my decision, not yours,” Laurel said.

  Aaron rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Suppose you confront him and he admits he knows David Adams and was just helping a client work out a financial deal. Then what? He’ll never cop to knowing about a murder.” Aaron lifted his hands from the wheel for emphasis. “You can’t arrest him, or bring him in for questioning. He’ll go on his merry way and, the minute he gets a chance, he’ll run to Santucci or get in touch with Adams. Don’t you get it? You’ll actually be helping him, rather than Anne.”

  Laurel looked over at him and a glimmer of doubt registered. Maybe Aaron was right and she should listen.

  “Where does that leave our chances of capturing her murderer? Don’t do it. It won’t help and you could get hurt. This time, let me do my job and take care of this.”

  The last time she did things her way had turned out horribly. The realization didn’t escape her. But, this time was different. This was something she believed she had to process and work out on her own. It was too important. Would it be stupid to confront Matt? Would it really hurt their case or help capture Anne’s murderer? Wouldn’t it be more of a tipoff if she told him the dinner was canceled?

  Silence filled the car as they drove back to New York. Laurel stared off into space for the longest time, twisting her hands in an unconscious gesture of frustration. As the miles sped by, the fidgeting slowed and her hands became still.

  They neared the George Washington Bridge, and Laurel took in the fabulous view of the city she loved. She put her emotions aside.

  “Okay, you win,” she said. “I’ll cancel dinner and leave the bad guys to you.”

  Aaron smiled over at her. “It’s the right decision.”

  She concentrated on the skyline and placed her palm on the murder book as though taking an oath on a Bible. Laurel viewed the facts in a hard, cold light and knew what she had to do. A shudder of apprehension washed over her. She was deceiving Aaron again. Sleeping with him … being together again … She didn’t know where it was all heading.

  She realized she might be sacrificing their rekindled relationship in her quest to avenge Anne’s death, but there was no way around it. Her conscience wouldn’t let her have it any other way.

  I’m sorry, Aaron. She thought long and hard about what she was going to say to Matt.

  Chapter 38

  Friday, 1:48 p.m.

  Laurel arrived home, signed for the envelope Helen had left, and took the elevator up to her apartment. She entered her home, and all she saw was the envelope she held in her hand. It seemed to take on a life of its own, its whiteness almost glowing, and her name, written in Helen’s steady script, stood out in stark relief on its front.

  Laurel dropped her keys and bag on the small table in the hall and stepped into the living room. She steadied herself, sat down in her favorite chair and slid her finger under the envelope’s sealed flap. Sliding the pages out and forming them into a neat pile on her lap, she read slowly and thoughtfully, turning each page over as she finished it and placing it on the coffee table in front of her. She absorbed the information about Matt Kuhn that Helen had compiled, and a certain resignation engulfed her. She wanted a story and she certainly got one, although not the one she expected.

  Well, now she knew the truth, and it sickened her. The real question was, what was she going to do about it?

  She had spent the morning’s ride back from Pennsylvania thinking about the events that transpired since she received Anne’s email on Monday morning. A saying her father was fond of popped into her mind, “Life can turn on a dime.”

  As far as Laurel was concerned, it certainly had. Now, it was up to her to make it turn again.

  She read Helen’s dossier on Matt and was more committed than ever to the plan she had decided upon the night before, no matter what Aaron said. The information stacked neatly edge-to-edge on the table in front of her was real. Matt was connected to the Santucci family, and in the most personal way possible: he was Sal Santucci’s nephew. He lied to her about everything. This bond with the Santucci crime family left no room for doubt and put him smack in the middle of everything that happened in Pennsylvania.

  Laurel leaned her head back on the chair’s soft cushion. She needed to think through what she had to do. She called Helen and discussed the information in the letter. Then, she sorted out what she was going to tell everyone else she had to speak with today. How much dishonesty, half-truths, and evasions will it take? Laurel picked up the phone. Her dad would be first.

  “Baby girl,” her father offered his usual greeting. “You had me a little worried there. I’m glad you’re back safe and sound. I’m sorry about that woman you were trying to help. So, you ready to tell me what happened in Doylestown?”

  She told him. Well, most of it anyway, leaving out the information she learned about Matt and her night with Aaron.

  “Jeez. Do they have any leads on this David Adams guy?” Mike asked.

  “They’re working on it. They know he skipped town, and was cooking up some financial scam, and was trying to get mob money from New York to back it.” She tried to keep things matter-of-fact as she spoke. She didn’t want Mike to have even the slightest inkling she might be holding back. She hated this—keeping secrets, evading the truth—but there was nothing else she could do.

  “I know Detective Schnall is determined to find him. He’s got all his men and police from the neighboring towns working on it.” She paused and chose her next words carefully. “Plus, Aaron is looking into things from this end.”

  Laurel hoped Mike wouldn’t ask too many questions about Aaron’s involvement. She didn’t have to worry; his thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, focused as usual on his daughter. “This Adams guy doesn’t know anything about you, does he?”

  Her heart leapt into her throat. “No, Anne wouldn’t have told him about me. I was her safety net. Besides,” she thought of the email she received, “even if he does, I don’t matter now she’s dead. He knows the police are looking for him and he’s probably headed somewhere far away.”

  “I hope you’re right.” A hint of worry colored his words. “I want you to be extra careful just the same. Maybe you should move in with me for a few days, until this is over.”

  “I’m fine, really,” Laurel said.

  “Well then, make sure Aaron keeps an eye on things.”

  Her father really meant Aaron should keep watch over her. Oh yeah, I’ll make sure of that.

  They chatted for a few minutes more and discussed plans for the evening. “I spoke with Helen a little while ago, and she’ll meet us at the restaurant,” Mike said. “I can’t wait. We’re going to have a great evening.”

  His enthusiasm was so apparent, it made Laurel feel even worse about changing their plans. Not that he knew how much the guest list had been reduced. “Good.” Laurel masked her twinges of shame. “I’m going to meet Matt at his place; we’ll walk over together.” Her father apparently didn’t catch the tremor in her voice as she spoke Matt’s name.

  “All right then. See you tonight.” They hung up.

  Laurel’s next call was to John Dimitri.

  “Nice of you to check in. Anything to report?” John said.

  Once again, Laurel repeated the details of Anne’s death and the investigation in progress. Luckily, John didn’t press her for too many specifics. He did have his compassionate moments and must know she felt terrible about the murder of this young woman she set out to help. She told John she’d be working on the story at home and would keep him informed of her progress. Then she plowed ahead with her fifth or sixth falsehood of the day.

  “Listen, as you can imagine, this has been totally overwhelming. I just didn’t think I could face dinner tonight, so I canceled the reservation at Provence Sud. I know it was in your name, so I hope you don’t mind I took the liberty.” She paused for a moment.

  “I see,” John said.

  She knew he’d discover her lie eventu
ally, but by then she would be able to explain the reason for it. She just couldn’t take the chance of putting John in danger. The least she could do was keep him out of it, along with Jenna and Tony. The fewer people who attended this dinner, the better. “I already told Dad, and he’s a little bummed out,” Laurel said. “So I wouldn’t mention it just now. It would only make him feel worse. You do understand, don’t you?”

  “Oh yes, darling. I understand perfectly.”

  Laurel called Matt at his apartment, hoping he wouldn’t be there in the middle of the morning and she could leave a message. She gave a sigh of relief when his answering machine picked up.

  “Hey, it’s me.” She hoped playing it sweet and easy would mask her disgust. “We’re still on for Dad’s dinner tonight at eight thirty and I’m counting on you to be there.” She softened her voice even more. “I miss you.” The words nearly made her gag. “So, I thought we could meet at the bar a little earlier, maybe at eight fifteen, so we can catch up. You can tell me all about Italy and those crazy Italian bankers. See you later. Bye.”

  Heat rose up all over Laurel’s body in a sudden burst. She was flushed and sweating by the time she put down the phone. She sat back in her chair, letting her body cool down, and stared off into space again. Would Matt buy her message, knowing she’d most likely spoken with Jenna and heard all about their meeting? Laurel didn’t know, or really care, but she had to give it a try. She had questions for Matt and she wanted answers.

  One last call before she was done. The restaurant didn’t answer until the seventh ring and she was put on hold immediately. When a person finally came back on the line, Laurel could hear the din of conversation and the clatter of dishes and silverware in the background. “I’m so sorry to keep you waiting, but it’s very hectic here today,” a woman said. “Of course, that’s not your problem. How can I help you?”

  “Well,” said Laurel, “I have a reservation for dinner, or actually, John Dimitri does. I’d like to change it from seven people to four—uh maybe three. It’s for eight thirty this evening. Please put it in the name of Laurel Imperiole instead.” It was unlikely that Matt would be staying after she confronted him.

  “I’d be glad to do that for you, Ms. Imperiole. We have a long waiting list for this evening, so we won’t have any trouble filling those three seats. See you at eight thirty.”

  Somehow she’d make John understand she had no choice but to see this through.

  Laurel had been sitting in her living room for hours. Her stomach grumbled, but she didn’t know if she could eat anything and keep it down.

  She decided to grab a bite later. What she really needed now was a hot shower. Undressing and dropping her clothes in her wake, she walked into the bathroom, turned on the shower full blast, and stepped under the pulsing water. It ran over her body, and her muscles slowly responded. Neck, shoulders, back—each tense part of her body loosened and gave in to the soothing power of the steaming water. Now, if only her mind could follow the example her body provided. Laurel lathered on relaxing, lavender shower gel. Let yourself be calm and in the moment.

  The velvety scent washed over her and she breathed deeply. Cool. Steady. Focused. That was the path she’d have to take if she was going to make it through tonight.

  Chapter 39

  Friday, 3:15 p.m.

  Black silk mules or strappy silver sandals? Helen couldn’t decide which pair of shoes would look better with the slinky Armani dress she planned to wear that evening. Joe was no help at all. Even though he reluctantly agreed to stake out the restaurant and set it all up, he still gave her a hard time about attending Mike’s birthday dinner.

  She told him he was just being stubborn. He insisted he wasn’t. She said he sounded just the teensiest bit jealous. He shouted back he was no such thing. The discussion escalated into an argument with Joe storming out of the apartment and slamming the door so hard that the balcony windows rattled.

  Men. Standing in front of the full-length mirror in Joe’s bedroom, dress tucked under her chin, she held up one shoe choice in each hand and finally decided on the mules. I may be walking into the lion’s den and may not walk out again, but at least I’ll look fabulous.

  Who am I fooling? Her cavalier attitude was a cover-up for the anxiety gnawing away inside her. It was a tricky business she and Joe were choreographing, like an acrobat at the top of a human pyramid who could tumble down with one wrong move. What made it even more precarious were the civilians involved—Laurel, Mike, John Dimitri—not to mention having to worry about Aaron poking his suspicious nose into where it didn’t belong. If anyone got hurt because of her … well, she wouldn’t let that happen, would she?

  Helen put the shoes on the bed next to her dress and headed for the kitchen. She opened Joe’s refrigerator and peered inside with one arm draped over the door. She spied a nice wedge of cheddar cheese and the remains of a small turkey breast. Pulling them out along with rye bread, a ripe beefsteak tomato, and honey mustard, she set about the task of making her lunch. A pang of guilt swept over her, but then she remembered that Joe had stocked his fridge in anticipation of her stay, and her guilt dissipated quickly.

  She was still annoyed with the childish behavior their disagreement brought out in him. She was staying in his house, bringing up memories of their past, and maybe he couldn’t help feeling a little jealous. Of course, maybe there was reason for him to feel that way. Joe knew she was seeing Mike. She had already mentioned it a few times but not with the intention of hurting his feelings. Joe would always be special to her. She wanted him to know Mike was, too. Tonight was technically business, or so she told herself. Helen sighed in frustration. She thought of that T-shirt slogan she liked so much: “I’ve got one nerve left and you’re getting on it.” That had been Joe this morning.

  Finishing up constructing her sandwich, Helen took it over to the small café table under Joe’s sunny kitchen window. She sat down, looked out at the beautiful blue sky, took a big bite, and thought about the strained morning and the conversations she’d had earlier with both Laurel and Aaron.

  Laurel had phoned after Aaron dropped her off at her apartment and she’d reviewed the contents of the envelope Helen left. To Helen’s surprise, Laurel already knew there was a Matt Kuhn/Sal Santucci connection, but not that Matt was his nephew. It was another blow that seemed to hit her hard, and Helen was sorry she was the one to deliver the news. Laurel told her Anne Ellsworth was dead and Helen heard sadness creep into her voice. She explained about the scheme David Adams cooked up and the letter they found from ZurichBank AG expressing Sal Santucci’s interest in the plan with Matt’s signature at the bottom. Now it was Helen’s turn to be surprised. Well, well, David, Matt, and Suave Sal all in bed together over a little extra-curricular banking.

  Just like in a cartoon, a light bulb went on in Helen’s head and it made perfect sense why Suave Sal was so desperate to get that DVD back.

  Laurel also confessed she told Aaron all about their idea to investigate Matt for her story and use him as a foil to David Adams. She had to divulge their plan so Aaron would understand she didn’t know Matt was involved with any of these people and it was all just a horrible coincidence.

  Helen reassured Laurel she’d explain their objective to Aaron as well and square things with him from her end as best she could. He was probably waiting for her call right now; yeah, waiting to let her have it for lying to him in the first place and encouraging Laurel to do the same.

  Then Laurel’s voice changed and Helen heard something different in her tone, a determination missing throughout the relating of the events that occurred in Pennsylvania. “I have a favor to ask of you. Please don’t tell Aaron Dad’s dinner is still on, though I did cancel with John, Jenna, and Tony. Aaron asked me to cancel it and I told him I would. I just didn’t want to fight about it with him.” Helen sensed Laurel had made up her mind and wouldn’t change it. “I have to go, to see Matt and speak with him in person. It’s the only way I’ll be able to tell
if … if he knew anything about Anne Ellsworth’s death.” Laurel paused. “You’ll still come, won’t you?”

  The smart and safe thing to do would be to cancel dinner and the DVD drop and find another way to get Suave Sal and his nephew. The detective in her couldn’t go that route. She couldn’t pass up this golden opportunity to confront Matt. Helen realized it was one of those times when a chance came your way and you had to take it or lose out. They had the goods. Dinner tonight at Provence Sud’s was the perfect time and place to get Santucci. Once again, her conscience gave her a twinge—would the Imperioles be safe? Should she tell Laurel about the DVD to forewarn her of the possible danger it presented? Helen ignored the thoughts tugging at the back of her mind. She and the Imperioles would have Joe to keep them safe.

  “Don’t worry. I’ll be there and I’ll keep our dinner plans under wraps,” she said.

  * * *

  Aaron snapped up the phone with a curt “Detective Gerrard, Identity Theft Squad.” Helen could tell she was in trouble before the words were out of his mouth.

  “Hi. It’s Helen,” she said.

  Silence as solid as ice seeped over the line like a glacier slipping into the sea.

  “Ms. McCorkendale,” Aaron said. “Can it be that you’re calling? Do you actually have something you want to say to me?” The scorn was as thick as pea soup.

  “I’m sorry. I know it was wrong to keep information from you.” She hoped he heard the contrition in her voice. “I asked Laurel not to tell you about our investigation into Matt Kuhn because I wanted to find out about him first. He seemed too good to be true, and he was. Believe me, I had no idea he was connected to Pennsylvania in any way.”

  At least that last part was true. Helen walked a very fine line here. She couldn’t tell Aaron what piqued her interest in Matt—her breaking into his apartment, what she’d found and how it tied him to Sal Santucci. That would blow the whole deal she had with Santucci to return it.