To break the deafening silence, Emma asked, “Sam, tell me about yourself.”
She shrugged. “Not much to tell. I’m in high school and I live most of the year with my mom and stepfather in Chicago.”
“She’s being modest,” Conner added. “She’s in a magnet math and science academy. By the time she graduates she’ll also have earned two years of college credits.”
“Impressive.” Emma had an idea. “Have you ever tutored?”
Sam said, “I’m a peer tutor at my school. Advanced math, mostly.”
“David needs a tutor.”
David turned a little pink. “I have to get my GED.”
Sam smiled and became animated. “I can totally help you with that.”
“No. You can’t,” Conner interjected.
“Dad,” she whined. “I have a lot of time on my hands while you’re at work. This will give me something constructive to do.”
“This kid has a record. I’m not leaving you alone with him.”
“They won’t be alone. Jeanine will be here,” Emma promised. “It’s a win-win.”
“Out of the question,” Conner stated flatly. “Like I said, he has a history with the police.”
Emma rolled her eyes. “A history that includes flushing a bag of oregano down the toilet right under your nose. You can’t fault him for your shortcomings.”
“Besides,” Sam chimed in. “Don’t you want people to treat Uncle Michael well when he gets paroled?”
“Uncle Michael?” Emma queried.
“None of your business,” Conner said curtly. He breathed in, then let it out slowly. “You can do the tutoring.”
Sam placed her mug on the table and hugged her father around the neck. “Thank you, Daddy.”
“But Jeanine or Miss McKinley have to be here. Deal?”
“Totally.”
“David?” Conner asked, gaining the teen’s attention. “Watch yourself.”
“Whatever,” he replied.
Jeanine elbowed him in the ribs.
“I mean, yeah,” David amended.
“Can we start next week?” Emma asked.
Sam smiled. “That’s perfect! I have to paint my bedroom, but other than that I’m totally open.”
“Sweet,” David said.
“Disaster,” Conner grumbled.
“More coffee?” Jeanine asked.
Conner stood and Sam followed his lead. “No,” he said. “We need to get going.”
“Sorry you came out here for no reason,” Emma commented as she also stood.
He shrugged, which pulled the cloth of his shirt taut against his muscled body. Emma swallowed. Hard. But she couldn’t rid her mind of wandering into inappropriate territory.
“It wasn’t for no reason. Want me to recommend someone to fix that window casing?”
Emma shook her head. “I have a handyman starting tomorrow.”
“Willis Maddox?” he asked.
“How did you know that?”
He grinned. “We were just at Jake’s Hardware Store and the clerk sold some supplies to Willis, who told him. Then the clerk told Jake, then he told me.”
The downfall of small towns. Emma huffed out a puff of air. “Your town has too much time on its hands.”
He shrugged again. “What can I say? The community is always curious about newcomers.”
On that note he and Sam left the house. The trio set down to a simple dinner, then Jeanine cleaned up the kitchen, and she and David retired to their respective rooms. Emma went back into the study and retrieved her briefcase. She reached inside and pulled out a manila envelope. Taking out the news clippings she reread them for the umpteenth time.
There were articles from the Washington Post and the New York Times, as well as several from the Purdue Herald Weekly.
Some were from twenty years ago, when Emma and her twin sister had been eleven. She could close her eyes and remember that day as if it had happened only hours earlier. Her very normal, peaceful young life had been destroyed that day.
The Post article was the most detailed. It explained how the President of the United States had come to Purdue to campaign for the governor. Then, according to the papers, a crazed lone gunman had opened fire on the dais, killing the president and wounding the governor. Kenny Simms, a Purdue deputy, had fired on the gunman, killing him with a single shot to the head. A rifle recovered at the scene had been determined the murder weapon. Case closed, and the country mourned for their popular, fallen leader.
Some of the later articles were from the Purdue Herald. Those addressed everything from the initial incident to coverage over the years. There were even anniversary editions, usually featuring Governor Rossner’s memories of the day. Those had stopped a few years back when Rossner passed away. In more recent editions, the Herald relied heavily on the recollections of Maddison Burke for their retrospective stories. Burke had been the governor’s campaign manager.
Emma had received the first clipping in the mail nearly six months ago. There was no return address on the envelope, just a Purdue postmark. Obviously, someone in Purdue knew who she was, but who her sender was was still a mystery. To date, no one had stepped forward or made contact in person.
She assumed someone had gotten wind of the news of the wrongful termination case and then somehow learned about her new identity. That was the only thing that made sense. Her mother had gone to extraordinary lengths to change their identities after the assassination. They had even moved from Washington, D.C. to a small town in north Georgia. Emma and Amelia had made it through high school and college without anyone learning their secret.
Emma ran her fingertips over the single word written atop each clipping. Why?
She sighed as she looked at the assassin’s photo. “‘Why’ is right. Daddy, why did you do it?”
CHAPTER NINE
Conner slept fitfully and awakened well before dawn. Visiting days were always stressful, but his bimonthly visit to Jarretsville wasn’t what had him on edge. No, he definitely had Emma McKinley on the brain.
As his coffeepot slowly dripped into the carafe, he closed his eyes and conjured her image. She was beautiful, he acknowledged. Blond hair, blue eyes, and legs that inspired fantasies. But the other night she’d been different, at least for a little while, when he’d first arrived. She had a soft vulnerability about her that he found very appealing and really intriguing. He could think of a lot of adjectives to describe her, but “vulnerable” hadn’t been among them. No, she was also confident, even cocky. And that carried its own appeal.
During her first week in Purdue, she’d not lost a motion or a case. He’d snuck over a time or three to the court to watch her in action. She was laser focused and knew the law better than anyone in the room. So why, he wondered again, had she opted to come to Purdue? He loved his hometown and its slow pace, but she didn’t have any connection to the north Florida town.
Elgin Hale said she’d come from New York City and Conner had a hard time reconciling why a woman would leave the fast pace of New York for a small town. Without divulging a number, Frances at the bank had shared with Yolanda, who’d shared with his secretary, that Emma was their biggest client. Which only added fuel to his intrigue. Why would a rich woman choose Purdue? Was she hiding? From what or whom? Avoiding an overzealous lover? He didn’t like the thought of her having a lover, and the fact that he felt that way about a relative stranger—no matter how sexy and appealing—freaked him out a little.
Last night’s shooting bothered him. He’d made light of it to Emma, but maybe that had been a mistake. Even if some fool had accidentally fired that shot—what the hell was he doing in the woods at that time of night?
He pondered those thoughts and sipped strong coffee for the better part of two hours until Sami—er, Sam—appeared in the kitchen. “Morning Dad.” She kissed the top of his head. “Coffee?”
“In the pot,” he said. “Mugs are in the cabinet above the coffee maker.”
Sam poured
a cup, doctored it with some cream and sugar, then joined him at the round kitchen table that he had inherited from his grandmother. In fact, most of his décor was rustic. Except for the fifty-inch flat screen hanging in the family room.
“What time are we leaving to go see Uncle Michael?” she asked.
“I’d like to be on the road at eight-thirty.”
Sam gulped down her coffee. “I’m going to shower.”
She was almost down the hallway when he called, “I’ve got a gathering to go to tonight. Are you okay with being alone for a little while?”
“Dad! I’m not a toddler. Besides, I’m going to be painting my room.”
He wasn’t even sure why he’d been invited. It wasn’t as if the Burkes made a habit of inviting him to their home. So, he was going more out of curiosity than anything else. Plus he knew Emma would be there.
It took him all of fifteen minutes to shower, shave and dress in jeans and a button-down shirt. Sam, on the other hand, didn’t emerge from her room until five minutes before departure time. She looked very grown up a short dress with what she called leggings, and some ballet flats. They reminded him of her time in dance classes which, looking at her now, seemed like a lifetime ago. “Ready?” he asked.
The drive to Jarrettsville took less than an hour. The last twenty miles was pine forest dotted with the occasional trailer home, then rather abruptly a large, heavily fortified wall topped with razor wire soared twenty feet in the air before them.
Once they parked, they passed through a series of security stations. Conner had gone through this procedure enough times to know to leave his gun locked in his SUV. He greeted various correctional officers he had gotten to know over the past fifteen years.
Along with a few dozen other visitors, Conner and Sam were ushered into a common room. It smelled of bleach and stale coffee. There were at least fifty stainless steel tables bolted to the floor. Michael had been a model prisoner so far; he’d earned the right to see them in the visitors’ center instead of in the glass booths with handsets like in his early years here.
Conner felt his heart clench as he waited for his older brother. Sam must have sensed something because she reached over and squeezed his hand.
“There he is,” she said a minute later when Michael came into the room.
Conner shook his hand; it was the only permitted physical contact allowed by the prison. “Hey,” he said as they shook hands. Conner looked him up and down. “You’re starting to look like Declan,” he joked.
Michael shook his head. “I have a lot of time to work out,” he replied. “But not enough to look like him. Last time he was here he looked like he’d just stepped out of Seal Team Six.”
“How are they treating you?” Sam asked.
“I’m fine, honey. Especially seeing you. Man, you’ve grown up since the last time I saw you.”
“Tell him that,” she joked as she hooked a thumb in her father’s direction.
Conner felt his gut clench. “What day is your parole hearing?”
“Two weeks from Monday,” Michael answered, though his voice was tinged with a hint of resignation. “The chances that they’ll let me out on my first time up for parole are slim.”
“Well, Declan and Jack are coming up and Sam and I will be there, so you can show them you have a complete support system on the outside.”
“Thanks, brother.”
They spent two hours catching up. Sam talked about her school, while Conner filled him in on Jack’s recent engagement to Darby Hayes. They talked until the siren went off, indicating that visiting hours were over.
When they left, Conner felt the usual sense of helplessness. Michael had spent fifteen years inside that prison for a crime that wasn’t his fault. Conner still vividly remembered that night years ago, when his father had been abusing his mother—his favorite pastime—and Michael stepped in. They’d struggled for the gun and it discharged, hitting their mother in the chest. She died instantly. Michael was still wrestling for the weapon when it discharged for a second time, killing their father. Even though he’d been only seventeen, he’d been charged as an adult. Michael had been convicted on two counts of voluntary manslaughter and given a twenty-five-year sentence.
Jack and Conner had been sent to live with an aunt and uncle in Purdue. They’d been good people and they’d provided a nice home for the boys. Conner still missed them.
“Are you going to be quiet all the way home?” Sam asked.
“Sorry, baby,” he said, reaching over to pat her knee. “I just get bummed out seeing him like that.”
“But he’ll get paroled, right?”
Conner nodded. “Eventually.”
“Well, that sucks.”
* * *
Emma was trying to decide what to wear. She had three dresses laid out on her bed. One was a simple but classic little black dress. One was a red cocktail dress with sexy but discrete cutouts. The third was a white dress with a plunging back. “I like all of you,” she told the clothes. “Note to self: don’t talk to your outfits.”
Each had its plusses, which was why making this decision was so difficult. She needed a second opinion so she called Jeanine into her room.
“Which one?” she asked as one by one she held each dress against herself.
“The white one, definitely.”
Emma turned it around and showed her the back. “Are you sure I won’t be showing too much skin?”
Jeanine shook her head. “It’s pretty and with your figure, it will be very flattering.”
“But aren’t the Burkes kind of…conservative?” she asked.
“Trust me, Maddison Burke will love that dress and Renae will be pea green with envy. She’s almost sixty now, so she can’t get away with such a revealing dress.” Jeanine smiled. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall when she gets a look at you.”
“Was she that difficult to work for?”
“You have no idea,” Jeanine answered on a rush of breath.
“What about Maddison? How is he?”
Jeanine shook her head. “Pathetic. She calls all the shots and he takes all the glory. Can you imagine what he’ll be like as a senator? If you ask me, he’s too weak and too dependent on his wife to be in Congress. But I also think that’s just a stepping stone. I think Renae has her eyes on the White House. He’s going to win that senate seat,” she said with resignation. “They put on a perfect face for the public. You’ll see tonight.”
It took Emma only thirty minutes to do her hair and makeup, then slip on the dress. She chose a pair of nude heels, left the house, and entered the Burkes’ address into her car’s navigation system. The drive would take her seventeen minutes, which should get her there close to the time on the invitation she’d received in the mail.
Following the instructions on the invitation, she reached an ornate gate and a callbox, illuminated by her headlights. Reaching out of the window, she pressed the button and announced herself. The gates swung open like the jaws of an alligator.
Taking a couple of deep breaths as she drove up the long drive, Emma realized she was starting to get nervous. Spanish moss dripped off the branches of huge live oaks that guarded either side of the roadway like soldiers, and as she neared the house she slowed in order to take it all in.
The house was a giant Victorian with a huge and perfectly manicured front lawn. The wraparound porch held window boxes that spilled purple petunias over the white railings. The din of conversation and the gentle sounds of a piano playing drifted out on the balmy evening air. The fragrance of roses, the ghosts of multiple perfumes, and the enticing aroma of food welcomed her.
A valet greeted her as she stepped out of her car. “Thank you.” She handed him her keys then climbed the seven steps up to enter the open front doorway.
“Opulent” didn’t begin to describe the place. It wasn’t to her taste, but Emma had to admit that Renae Burke had carefully decorated the home with pieces true to its period—which translated into a lot of
gilding. She was in the foyer and just to her left was a majestic staircase winding up to the second floor. To her right was a long hallway and a parlor. A uniformed woman greeted her and handed her a glass of champagne with a raspberry in the glass.
Emma took a sip. It was wonderful champagne, and based on the other good aromas she expected she was in for a culinary treat as well.
“This way, please.”
Emma followed the server through the house and out a back entrance. The backyard was as lovely as the front, but it was crowded with many of the people she had met at Stella’s on her first day in Purdue. She was descending the steps, admiring the twinkle lights as she did, when she felt all eyes turn in her direction. She hated being the center of attention, and it suddenly occurred to her that she should probably have worn the black dress. Damn. Tilting her chin, she kept going.
The din grew softer and the piano music louder. Renae Burke separated herself from one modest group and started in her direction. The older woman wore a beautiful silk dress in a deep jade that highlighted her green eyes.
Smiling, she gave Emma air kisses on either cheek. It was creepy.
“Thank you for coming,” Renae said.
“I wouldn’t have missed it.”
“Me either,” came a deep voice from behind her.
She glanced back to see Conner on the top step. He was wearing a suit, which was both good and bad. Good in the sense that his appearance showed her a different side of him, but bad because he looked positively sexy in a dark suit and a crisp white shirt. It showed off his dark coloring and somehow made his gray eyes seem more intense. Predictably, her body responded even though her brain tried push away the thoughts.
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