When a Secret Kills

by Lynette Eason

  The elevator door opened and they made their way down the hall to the small family room not far from the surgery waiting room.

  At their entrance, conversation ceased.

  Colton didn’t seem bothered by the awkward moment as he walked over to his aunt and offered her a hug. “I’m sorry.”

  She sniffed and nodded. When her gaze landed on Jillian, she stiffened, but said nothing.

  Jillian then noticed Colton’s parents staring at Meg. Both looked a little shell-shocked as their gazes went between the little girl and Colton.

  Finally his mother said, “Colton, is she . . . ?”

  He nodded. “This isn’t exactly the way I wanted to introduce you, but,” he took a deep breath, “Mom, Dad, meet Megan. My daughter.” Colton placed a hand on her head. “Meg, I’d like you to meet your grandparents, Zachary and Sonya Brady.”

  Meg stood silent for a moment longer, head tilted to the right as she studied the older couple. Then she grinned. “Cool. I like old people. Nice to meet you.”

  A strangled choke escaped Jillian. “Meg . . .”

  She saw Colton smothering a grin as Mrs. Brady lifted a brow. Even Elizabeth had a small smile on her pale lips.

  A snort slipped from Colton’s father and Jillian tensed, waiting, ready to defend Meg if he said anything that might hurt the little girl.

  To her shock, a belly laugh escaped the man and he knelt in front of Meg. “Well, we old people like little girls named Megan. Pleased to meet you too.” He held out his hand and Meg slipped hers into his. “Would you like to see if we can find a snack in the restaurant downstairs?”

  She looked at Jillian. Jillian looked at Colton. Colton simply looked speechless. Jillian cleared her throat. “Uh, sure. Go ahead. I’m sure she’d love that.”

  “Excellent,” Mr. Brady said.

  “Do you think they have ice cream?” Jillian heard Meg ask as they walked out the door. She missed the answer but had a feeling Meg would get her ice cream.

  Colton still stared at the door. She nudged him and he blinked.

  Then the doctor came in, followed by a red-eyed Carmen, and the mood changed.

  Elizabeth took a deep breath. “So, what happens now?”

  Colton felt his throat tighten. “We bury my uncle.”

  Wednesday

  43

  Colton saw Rick coming and smothered a grin, exchanged a hopeful look with Hunter, and took a deep breath. Bending his head, he pretended to be involved in paperwork.

  Rick dropped into the chair beside him. “This better be good.”

  Colton looked up. “Hey, thanks for coming.”

  “You said you had some evidence of a case you’re working on? What were you so busy with that you couldn’t just bring it to the lab?”

  Colton reached into the top drawer to his right and pulled out a plastic bag. “This.”

  Rick snagged it and looked. Drew in a deep breath and looked again.

  “Are these real?”

  “Of course.”

  “Two tickets to the World Series?” Rick breathed, his tone reverent.

  “Just for you.”

  Rick looked at him. “I don’t understand. Why would you do this for me?”

  Colton shrugged. “I overheard you talking about wanting to go one day.”

  Rick’s gaze returned to the tickets. “They must have cost a fortune.”

  “They did. But it was for a good cause. Trust me.”

  A frown formed and Rick looked up with narrowed eyes. “This is for the same weekend as my seminar.”

  Colton pasted a concerned look on his face. “I know, man, I really hate that. I mean, if you don’t want the tickets I’m sure I can sell—”

  Rick snatched them to his chest. “You win.”

  “What?”

  “You did it. The seminar is canceled.”

  Colton grinned, then frowned. “There’s just one string attached to these.”

  “Of course there is,” Rick grumbled. “I’ve canceled the seminar, what else do you need?”

  “You have to take Captain Murdoch.”

  Rick lifted a brow and started to argue. Colton reached out as though to take the tickets. Rick huffed out a breath. “Fine.”

  He turned to leave. Colton met Hunter’s gaze and stood. They did a midair high five as Rick turned back to give him a wicked grin. “This is only one weekend you know. That leaves fifty-one during the year.” He scooted for the door.

  Colton sat down. “Hey! Those tickets should be good for a lifetime of canceled seminars!”

  Colton shook his head and swiveled in his chair to glare at the computer screen, willing it to give him the information he’d been looking for before Rick had interrupted.

  Captain Murdoch had given Colton the good news this morning. He was a candidate for captain. Satisfaction filled him even though his computer wouldn’t cooperate with him.

  Dominic walked in. “What are you doing here? I would have thought you’d be with your family.”

  “I’ve had enough of the well-wishers with their nosy questions.”

  The media had covered Frank’s funeral and someone had leaked the fact that Frank may have been involved in the former governor’s death. Of course that had been a whole other story. One the media now speculated about endlessly. “I’m doing my best to ignore everything, but it isn’t easy. Frank’s dead. Wish they would just let it go.”

  “They won’t.”

  “I know.”

  Colton took a second look at the grim look on Dominic’s face. “What is it?”

  Dominic sat across from him and looked at the paper in his hand. “I did some digging.”

  “Yeah? On what?”

  “On all of the people that could possibly be the shooter that night.”

  “We already did that. Ran background checks and everything on everyone in the house that night.”

  “Everyone but two.”

  As Dominic’s meaning sank in, Colton’s breath left his lungs.

  Colton took a deep breath. “All right. What’d you find?”

  “I think I found who the .357 Magnum could belong to.”

  Jillian stepped out of the car and walked up the steps to ring the doorbell. The man she remembered as Ian answered.

  “I’m Jillian Carter. I’d like to speak with Mrs. Hoffman if she’s available.”

  “Do you have an appointment?”

  “No. This is kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing.”

  His eyes narrowed. “You’re the one, aren’t you?”

  She didn’t have to ask what he meant, she heard it loud and clear. You’re the one who came back and stirred up trouble. You’re the one who changed my world. “I’m the one.”

  He inclined his head. “Come in. I’ll see if Mrs. Hoffman wishes to speak with you.” His cool tone indicated Jillian shouldn’t hold her breath. She stepped inside and he motioned for her to follow him. “If she wants to see you, it will be in her charity room.”

  “Charity room?”

  He smiled slightly. “She doesn’t call it an office, but it’s where she does all of her charity work.” He led her down the hall past Senator Hoffman’s office and into a small room off the den. Ian waved a hand toward the couch and Jillian sank onto it. He left and she waited.

  Maybe Elizabeth wouldn’t talk to her. But Jillian had plans to be in Colton’s life for a long time and she knew he planned to be there for his aunt and cousin now that Frank was dead. She would do what she could to ease the pain.

  Jillian glanced at her watch, then at the desk. Pictures.

  She got up and moved to see if there were any of Colton. She spotted one when he must have been about seven. He held up a nice-sized fish in one hand. His uncle Frank stood beside him with an arm around his shoulders. Jillian’s throat tightened. Things could have been so different if the man had just appreciated what he had instead of being so greedy for more. So concerned about appearances.

  She pushed closer to the hutch behind
the desk where more photos had been positioned. Colton had been a cute kid. Meg was a female version of him.

  As she moved, her hip bumped the table. The computer came out of hibernation mode and the screen lit up.

  She gaped at the words she’d just inadvertently revealed.

  “Confession is good for the soul. Your soul is a black pit that needs redemption.”

  Her breath became entangled in her lungs and black spots whirled before her eyes. Then her investigative reporter instinct kicked in.

  She glanced at the papers next to the keyboard.

  Divorce papers. Quickly she scanned them. And looked at the date.

  May 15, 2002.

  “Miss? Are you all right?”

  Ian stood in the door. Jillian had to get out of here, had to get to Colton. She pulled in a deep breath and put a smile on her face as she felt her phone vibrate in the back pocket of her shorts. “I’m . . . fine. I was just looking at pictures of Colton when he was a child.” She hoped she sounded more convincing than she thought she did.

  “Mrs. Hoffman was on a phone call. She’ll be right in to see you.”

  Jillian moved from behind the desk. “That’s all right. I’ll just come back later when she’s not busy.”

  “No, she’s coming. Just have a seat.”

  Jillian’s stomach curled. What should she do? If she rushed out, would that look suspicious?

  Ian turned and left the room.

  Jillian stood in thought for another thirty seconds before deciding to slip out.

  Then she froze. She had no evidence. She bit her lip and turned back to the computer.

  “Looks like I’m going to be a little busier today than I’d planned.”

  Jillian whirled to see Elizabeth Hoffman holding a weapon. A .357 Magnum, if she wasn’t mistaken.

  Elizabeth said, “I see you’ve managed to snoop your way into a bit of trouble here.”

  Colton shook his head. His aunt owned a .357 Magnum? He couldn’t believe it. He’d never taken her for being interested in guns. In fact, she’d always expressed such disdain for her husband’s collection.

  He looked up at Dominic. “I’m stunned.”

  “I thought you might be.”

  “So who had access to this gun that night? Someone must have gotten ahold of it and . . .”

  “What if it was Elizabeth, Colton?”

  Colton let out a small laugh of disbelief. “That’s crazy.” He rubbed a hand down his chin. “I don’t know which way is up anymore, man.”

  “Why don’t we head over there and ask her about it?”

  Colton stood. “All right. Sure. Let’s go.” He looked at his watch. “I need to call Jillian on the way. We were going to have lunch together. Looks like we may have to make it dinner.”

  Gathering her shocked and scattered wits, Jillian managed to corral her fear and say, “Is that the same gun that you shot the governor with?”

  A smile curved the woman’s lips. Unfortunately, her eyes remained chips of ice. “Indeed.”

  “Why?”

  “It was a mistake. He wasn’t the target.”

  Jillian let her gaze fall to the papers. “Right. You were aiming for your husband, weren’t you?”

  “Yes.” Her mouth tightened. “A stupid, momentary lapse of self-control.”

  Jillian licked her lips. “It couldn’t have been too impulsive. You had the gun.”

  “Well, true. I’d been thinking about it. Every night, Frank would take a walk down to the pond and stand on the dock. It was his quiet moment for the day. Something he looked forward to and needed like the air he breathed. I knew as soon as the party was over, he would be there.”

  “And you would be waiting.”

  “Only it didn’t happen like that. I got tired of waiting on him and came back to find them arguing. And then when I came up the gravel path, I could see them. Harrison was my friend,” she whispered and her cold facade momentarily softened with grief. Then hardened once again. “He asked Frank what I would think about what he was doing.” She lifted the gun. “And do you know what Frank said?”

  “What?”

  “He laughed, then said I would think whatever he told me to think. Then he lifted the gun like he was going to shoot Harrison and I fired. We both did. Only Harrison moved to dodge Frank’s bullet and ran right into mine. It happened so fast, so incredibly, crazy . . . fast.” A groan escaped her.

  Jillian glanced at the man standing silently behind Elizabeth. “You’re in on this too?”

  “I’m not ‘in on’ anything. I’m simply the one person Elizabeth knows she can rely on.”

  Jillian looked back at Elizabeth. She seemed lost in the memories she was talking about. “Why did Frank think he shot him?”

  “Because he pulled the trigger. And I’d drugged him pretty good.”

  Jillian blinked. “Drugged him?”

  “Yes. I slipped something in his drinks.” She smirked, the grief at having murdered the governor gone now. “He had me bring them to him so I would look the attentive wife. Appearances, you know.”

  “Right.”

  “I kept adding a little to each drink hoping he would finally just keel over.”

  “Were you really going to shoot him?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know if I was going to or not. The thought made me feel better. Holding the gun made me feel powerful. And then . . . everything happened. Harrison was dead and . . . ” She frowned, then a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. “Then Frank woke up moaning about killing Harrison. I let him believe it. It’s tortured him for years.”

  Jillian shuddered at the pleasure the woman found in the thought. “So he knew you knew?”

  “Oh no. Ian was the only one who Frank thought knew his little secret—other than you, of course. And Elliott. Ian kept me out of it.”

  Jillian stared at Ian. “So you helped arrange the car wreck and set it on fire?”

  He sniffed. “I did.”

  “Why would you do that for them?”

  “It’s a little thing called loyalty.”

  Jillian would never understand that definition of loyalty. “Why the divorce papers?”

  Elizabeth frowned. “I found them that afternoon before the party.” She licked her lips and shifted the gun. “I couldn’t believe it. He was going to kick me to the curb and take Carmen.”

  “But he didn’t.”

  “No, I found out just recently that he’d decided not to go through with it. It was all about appearances, you know. If he divorced me, there would have been scandal. Only at the time, I didn’t know he wasn’t going to follow through with it. And besides, after that night,” she gave a smug glance back toward Ian, “Frank wasn’t sure what I knew and he wasn’t about to ask me. Ian just played stupid. But let Frank know that if the subject of divorce came up again, the authorities would find irrefutable evidence of what really happened that night. Well, what Frank thought really happened that night.” She swallowed hard. “I kept waiting for the police to knock on my door and arrest me.”

  Ian leaned over and whispered something in Elizabeth’s ear. Her face shifted and she motioned with the gun. “Let’s go. Enough talking.”

  “Wait a minute. What about Gerald Benjamin?”

  “Frank set all that up. He and Elliott thought the only way to cover up the murder was to blackmail Gerald. Only Gerald couldn’t live with what he’d done and was going to tell, so Elliott got rid of him.”

  Jillian shuddered. “Was Frank’s heart attack really a heart attack or did you do something to him?”

  The woman blinked. “What made you ask that?”

  “I don’t know. The thought crossed my mind more than once that the person who pulled the trigger the night of the party might not want Frank to live much longer now that everything was being investigated.”

  “Think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?” She tilted her head and studied Jillian. “Okay, yes, I slipped enough potassium chloride into his coffee to
kill him. Another heart attack. One that would finish the job this time and no one would question it. I took a chance and got away with it.”

  Jillian shuddered at the woman’s lack of remorse.

  Elizabeth glanced at the clock on the wall over Jillian’s head. “Let’s go.”

  “Where?” Jillian asked, her mind clicking, searching for a way out. Please, God, get me out of this.

  “You’re going to disappear again. After all, you’ve done it once, what’s to keep you from doing it again?”

  “Because I’m not hiding a secret anymore and Colton knows I wouldn’t leave him. Not now. How can you do that to him?”

  Pain flickered briefly. “Hurting Colton is just an unfortunate turn of events.” A cruel smile twisted her lips. “Who knows? He may even thank me when he gets full custody of that cute little girl he’s grown so fond of.”

  Nausea threatened. Her mind raced. What was she going to do? If it was just Elizabeth, Jillian had no doubt about her ability to overpower the woman. But add Ian into the picture and that made things a little more tricky. She needed a way out and fast.

  The phone on the desk rang and they all froze. Then Jillian dove for the phone as Elizabeth lifted the weapon.

  44

  Colton listened as the line picked up and waited for the greeting.

  A gunshot echoed through the line and he flinched, nearly dropping his phone. “Hey!”

  Dominic shot him a sharp look as the car swerved onto the shoulder of the road before Colton jerked it back under control. He flipped the siren on and hit the gas pedal. To Dominic he said, “That was a gunshot!”

  Dominic called it in, requesting backup.

  Colton drove fast, but carefully, senses alert, eyes darting to make sure he saw anyone not paying attention. He pressed the gas harder and figured it would take him about another ten minutes before he could be at his uncle’s home.

  Jillian hunkered down behind the desk. She’d managed to knock the old-fashioned handset off the hook onto the desk. She just prayed someone heard the shot and called the police. “Elizabeth, stop! I have a child!”